The Reminders
by CaitieCat78
Summary: What would Chloe's life have been like if she thought Derek was dead? She'd have a normal family, job, and house. But what if Derek wasn't really dead? And he's willing to do anything to win back her heart? Then things get complicated.
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue:**

"Derek! What are you-"

"Just _run_, Chloe!" He skidded to a stop and spun around, facing our pursuers head-on.

"_No_!" I screamed as he leapt at the nearest one. Yet I couldn't force my pounding legs to turn back for him, instinct driving me to self-preservation primarily. I felt like I was going to be sick.

There was a bullet crack, and then another, but Derek's distinctive growl alerted me to the fact he was still alive. Not that that meant much at the moment. "_Derek_!" I screamed, whipping my head around just in time to see him sinking to his knees, an armed guard behind him.

"Chloe…" his lips formed the word but no sound that I could hear came out. Even from this distance I could see the light leaving his luminescent green eyes. A different Derek stood beside him, forlorn and semi-translucent. I screamed and screamed and just kept running.

**Sorry so short…it's just the prologue. The real chapters will be longer- I swear!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Fast forward…**

10 years later

"Will Daddy be back today?" The four-year-old's voice was filled with hope.

I sighed, scooping the bagel out of the toaster and lathering it with butter in one practiced motion. "Not today, An." Anna's eyes no longer filled with tears at this answer but she gave the same premature sigh she gave every morning. My heart broke at the dejection in the back of her blue eyes, so similar to my own, as I placed the bagel on the counter in front of her.

"Da!" Roger wailed, right on cue. This is how every morning had gone for the past five months. I wiped my buttery hands on a dishcloth and scooped him out of his high chair, bouncing him in my arms and ignoring the drool trickling down his cheek and onto my shoulder. As a mother, you got used to it.

"Come on, baby," I cooed. "Let's go watch Thomas!" At that bribe his tears dried up, forgotten. I plopped him in front of the singing trains on the TV, surrounded by piles of toys.

"You almost ready, honey?" I poked my head back into the kitchen. Anna shoved the last chunk of bagel into her mouth and nodded, dashing over to the front door to pull on her pink rain boots.

"Wait-" she paused, looking up at me with her head cocked. "Are you forgetting something?"

She looked thoughtful for a moment before realization dawned across her face. "Oh yeah!" I smiled as she pounded down the hall to the bathroom. After a moment I heard the faucet turn on and the distinctive _swish swish _of a toothbrush. That done she returned to again pull on her butterfly boots and I handed her the matching plastic coat.

The doorbell rang and I opened it to reveal an elderly woman with an impish smile wringing out her ponytail. "Mornin' Chloe!" she greeted cheerfully.

Her very presence brought me a feeling of relief. "How are you today, Kathy?" I smiled, stepping back to let her in.

"Wet," she hung up her raincoat with familiarity and went to go find Roger. I heard his delighted squeal and her boisterous endearments coming from the TV room. Ever since…Stephen…I'd been having Kathy come over from 8 am to 4 pm on weekdays to watch Roger, now that I had to work. It was a cheap-paying post at the local library and I was quickly realizing just how hard it is to raise two young kids on a single-mother's income.

I lifted up Anna's Barbie backpack and helped her shrug it over her shoulders then pulled on my own coat. Ducking my head to keep the rain from lashing my face _too_ badly, I propelled Anna towards our used navy car. Inside it reeked of damp upholstery: I had left the windows open last night.

Mentally cursing at my forgetfulness, I peeled out of the driveway and made the quick drive to St. Michael's pre-school. "Have fun today!" I waved to Anna as she stepped out into the rain.

"Love you mommy!" I lived for those three words. The car door slammed shut and she was gone, reduced to a pink blur dashing towards the propped open school doors.

This time the drive was even shorter, just down the street to the library. I ran out of the car, bracing myself against the rain until I was safely inside the thick oak doors. Knocking my hood off and fluffing out my hair, I wound around the shelves of books until I reached the cluttered circulation counter.

A short stocky woman with a towering grey bee-hive hairdo (it was rumored amongst us other librarians that that was an attempt at making up height) glared at me from behind bejeweled spectacles. I glanced at the clock; I was five minutes late.

"Good morning, Pearl!" I plastered a beam on my face though inside I wanted to say _screw you, Pearl_.

"You're late," she grunted, glare not wavering.

"Sorry. I had to wait for Kathy-"

"Your _babysitter_," her tone was fiercely condescending and she gave a triumphant smirk, knowing she had struck a nerve. Gritting my teeth I walked away into the back room, not wanting to risk my job over a public argument. It was a well-known fact she had something shoved up her ass and was willing to take it out on any of her co-workers.

"Hey, Chlo!" Emma called when I hung up my coat on the rack in the corner. She was sitting at a computer, typing up new call-numbers.

She was also old (it seemed like _everyone_ else who worked at the library was) but while Pearl seemed like the crotchety neighbor who would call the cops every time a kid walked across her lawn, Emma fit the roll of a kindly grandmother.

"How's it going, Emma?" I called back.

"Pretty good but I'm gonna' have to shelve books today. Gracie called in sick." Shelving books was an exhausting (mentally _and_ physically) tedious task that was notorious amongst librarians. Usually we employed a teenager to do it, but if she was sick the task was left to the rest of us…

In a sudden rush of affection towards the woman who had always been good to me, I offered, "I'll do the shelving if you want."

"Are you sure?" she chewed her lip doubtfully.

"Definitely." Not giving her more time to protest, I took hold of the cart and wheeled it back to the farthermost corners of the library, penetrated by few. It was predictably deserted.

I began the slow task of unloading the books onto the shelves, settling into the process. It wasn't hard- I had learned my alphabet twenty years ago. The long work gave me time to think.

I tried to create a mental to-do list, reminding myself Anna needed new shoes and Roger was due to the doctor's for a well-visit. There were groceries to pick up, bills to take care of, mortgages to worry about…

So why did my thoughts keep drifting back to green eyes? Stephen's green eyes and mousy brown curls. The other one's green eyes and deep black hair. Stephen's lopsided smile. The other one's intense look of protectiveness. The differences between them were ten years and five months, and yet neither could be forgotten.

My mind's meanderings were interrupted by a small cough- a throat-clearing gesture- behind me.

I jumped, book I had been about to shelve clattering to the ground. Instantly a big hand bent and picked it up, placing it back on the cart. My eyes collided with a thick muscular chest and I had to crane my neck to meet the man's eyes. I gulped; _green_ eyes.

"Yes?" I asked when he didn't say anything for a minute. He wasn't the scrawny, nerdy-types who often hung around the library. I would have thought he would be more a professional athlete than a professor with his huge build, yet his eyes still contained deep pools of intelligence.

"Chloe Saunders." he shook his head, a disbelieving smile on his face.

"Do I know you?" I squinted, sure I'd remember green eyes so similar to those of my two loves. At first I didn't notice his use of my old name, the one no one had called me by for ten years.

"You won't believe how long I've been trying to find you," he brushed a dark strand of hair out of his eyes.

Something in the way he was looking at me, or maybe it was just the tone of his voice seemed familiar. Then I knew. I _knew._

Standing in front of me was Derek Souza.

**Confused? Don't worry- all will be explained in the next chapter! But in the meantime…please review!**


	3. Chapter 3

I woke up horizontal, a concerned pair of eyes hovering above me. _Green_ eyes.

"Chloe? Chloe!" A harsh whisper.

I sat up quickly, pushing myself away from him to lean back against the shelves. _God- have I just _fainted_?_ _How humiliating!_

"I-I-" I couldn't believe the stutter I had hated as a child but hadn't suffered from for ten years was back. "I-I-thought y-you w-w-were d-dead."

His worried expression softened and he rocked back on his heels. "Oh, no. No, Chloe. I'm not a ghost, I swear. See?" he reached out and took my hand. I flinched away, drawing it back to cradle it against my chest and ignoring the look of hurt that flashed across his face.

This was the boy I thought I had watched die, the boy I had spent countless hours crying over. The boy who had made my life and then ruined it with his 'death'.

"I saw you die," I spoke slowly, reclaiming my voice. "That day ten years ago when we were running-"

"I got shot, true," he looked away as if embarrassed. "But I didn't die."

"I saw your ghost-"

"An illusion. The Edison Group's sorcerers are pretty talented."

"Are?" I didn't miss his use of the present tense. "As in, still here today?"

"You didn't think they were truly gone, did you?" he blinked up at me, eyes full of pity. This only made me mad.

"How should I know? It's not like I've heard anything from them since _you_."

"They haven't found you?" he blinked again, this time not in pity but in disbelief.

"No they haven't _found_ me!" I snapped, pushing myself to a standing position. I couldn't give in to the impulse that wanted to run forward and hug him. I _couldn't_. "How _could_ they? I took all the precautions- changing my name, moving across the country, cutting off all contacts with other supernaturals." I was ranting.

"Simon and Tori have been worried," his tone was thickly disapproving.

"That's not my- wait!" I had just realized a crucial flaw in my careful hiding. "How did _you_ find me?" I stood there waiting with my hands on my hips, wishing I had an extra few inches on me so I would look more intimidating than an angry chipmunk.

"Well, I didn't dare escape the lab I woke up in until I was healed." I opened my mouth but he answered my unspoken question, "Don't worry, they didn't experiment on me. Not in the 'taser until I bite my tongue off' sense, at least." I let out a sigh of relief then mentally scolded myself for doing so. "Then, after a week or two, I was able to break out-" again I opened my mouth to inquire after details but he didn't stop, "I went back to our rendezvous but of course you guys weren't there."

"Sorry," I felt inclined to say.

"No," he made a dismissive hand gesture. "It had been two weeks. I would have been _mad_ if you had endangered yourselves by remaining there."

"So what did you do?" I asked, intrigued despite myself. Subconsciously I removed my aggressive stance and leaned back against the book shelves, cocking my head to listen better.

"I followed Simon and Tori's scent." I blinked away the shock that had momentarily exposed itself on my face. In my memories of our romance as teens, I had almost forgotten his werewolf-ness. Almost.

"Even after two weeks?" I raised an eyebrow.

He shrugged, the gesture still familiar to me though he had changed so much. "It was faint but I still managed. Didn't smell _you, _though. I just assumed it was too stale, but I guess now I know the real reason…" he trailed off, a distant look in his eyes that told me he was ten years away, tracking in a forest.

"And…?" I prompted when he was silent for a few minutes, wanting to drag him out of the memories that were churning guilt inside me. "Could you find them?"

"Yeah," he blinked, coming back to the present to fix his gaze on mine. Against my will, my heart skipped a beat. "They were camped out a few miles away."

"They were ok?"

"Uh-huh. Worried as hell, though, especially when you didn't show up with me."

"I…" I fell silent not having an excuse for my actions but that I acted on impulse and mind-numbing grief. It was only after I was on the plane to Oregon that I felt the first twinges of regret.

"We looked for you but…you were gone."

"I…" I tried again but choking out false excuses is near impossible when your throat is already clogged with remorse.

"It's ok." he seemed to realize what I was trying to say. My returning look was a mixture of surprise and gratefulness. How was it that even after all this time apart he could _still_ read my mind? "We were just kind of traveling on the run for a while until we managed to scavenge up some jobs in Trenton. Eventually we got a house and Tori and Simon got married."

"_What_?" I gasped, trying to picture it. Had ten years really been able to change people that much?

"Yep. They have two twin little boys."

"Wow." Nothing like meeting a specter of your past to make you feel old.

"But what happened to _you_?" his probing green eyes were trying to search mine.

I took a deep breath. "Same thing, more or less. Got a job while still living in an alley. Met someone…" Now it was _my_ turn to trail off, thinking back to a day at the checkout counter of Stop & Shop when the cute guy with the intense green eyes and mischievous smile complimented my blonde hair. He would come to the store every day for the next week, waiting in line for longer than necessary to ensure he would get me as his check-out person.

It was a Friday when he finally asked me if I wanted to go on a date with him.

We went to the movies after my shift at work. The next Friday we went to dinner. The next: a picnic. Our Friday dates became habit for the next two years (over which I had been able to afford a cheap apartment) until the night at dinner at his house when he knelt down and pulled out a ring.

Soon followed Anna, and then later Roger. And then, one day he was gone.

"You met someone?" I snapped my eyes back to his, reading the raw emotion there.

I held up my left hand where my engagement ring still rested. "Oh." he actually took a physical step back. After a tense moment he braved asking, almost hopefully, "But no wedding?" he had picked up on the crucial fact that the wedding ring was absent from my ring finger, instead entombed in a jewelry box banished to the farthermost corners of my sock drawer.

"Oh there was a wedding," I let my hand swing back down to rest against my leg. "One followed by divorce papers."

"Oh," he repeated, but this time there was pity in his eyes. "What happened?"

I looked away so he wouldn't notice the tears that had chosen now to bubble up in my eyes, studying the call-numbers on the books still in the cart and letting my fingers dance back and forth across their shiny laminated spines. "We were at the park when a woman showed up with her daughter. I started talking to her, everyone stared."

"She was a ghost?" he guessed.

I nodded. "Stephen was there. He wanted to know what was wrong, I told him."

"Everything?" he sucked in a breath.

I nodded again. "The whole story; I told him all about the Edison Group, necromancers, the other supernaturals…when I was done he walked right out the door. The divorce papers came in the mail a week later."

I sniffled and he pulled a tissue from his sweatshirt pocket, handing it to me wordlessly.

"Thanks," I dabbed at my eyes, hating myself for crying in front of him. I mean, sure he'd seen me cry before, but that was ten _years_ ago…

"What time do you get off work?" he blurted after several minutes of silence.

"What?"

"What time are you done here?"

"Why?" Instantly I shifted from teary to suspicious.

He shrugged innocently. "I was thinking we could maybe grab some food later, or something. To get caught up."

"And the conversation we had for the past half hour didn't accomplish that? We _did_ basically sum up our lives for the past ten years."

"I bet there's still something important you haven't got around to mentioning yet."

Dang. He knew me so well. I took another deep breath. "I have two kids."

His expression betrayed no surprise, as if he'd been expecting this. "How old?"

"Four and a year-and-a-half. Girl and a boy."

"Wow." a faint smile painted his lips. "Two little Chloes."

"They don't look a thing like me," I told him, truthfully, but a smile of my own was tugging up the corners of my lips.

"Let me be the judge of that. I'd like to meet them."

I hesitated for a second before nodding. "Ok." I still wasn't sure how I felt about his sudden reappearance, but I was quickly realizing I couldn't just let him leave without spending at least a little more time together. Not without ripping another hole through my heart; one that may not heal this time. "When I get done with work, would you like to come to dinner at my house?" I offered.

He nodded solemnly, though there was a spark of light in his eyes. "I would love to."

"Good. Um…do you want my address?"

He shook his head. "I don't have a car."

"Oh…"

"I think I'll go look at some books until your done."

"Really?" I quirked my eyebrow up again, this time more in amusement than suspicion.

"Yep. Just holler when you're done. Don't worry, I'll hear you." with a wink he started walking away into the maze of shelves.

"Wait!" I called after him. He stopped and turned. "You didn't answer my original question."

"How I found you?" he confirmed. I nodded. "Remember Simon's failure finder spell?" Another nod. He laughed, a boisterous sound at odds with the gloomy stagnant library air. "It finally worked!"

It was smiling that I returned to shelving the books.

**Sorry kind of uneventful, but it **_**does**_** explain some stuff. Please review!**

**NOTE: in my story Tori and Simon are **_**not**_** brother and sister! (Otherwise…ew. Sorry for the confusion.)**


	4. Chapter 4

_This time I had a lot to occupy my mind. Derek. He was alive. And, somehow, I had just invited him to dinner at my house. What was I going to do?_

_The worst part was I had offered to give him a ride there. That would mean I_ wouldn't be home _before_ him. Meaning: my house was a pigsty and I wouldn't get a chance to clean it.

True, Derek had seen me sleeping in alleys, smelling like sewage, and covered in blood, but this was my chance to show him I had _changed_. Now I was _normal_. And I planned to stay that way.

Work dragged but soon it was 3:45 and I could leave. I wandered the shelves looking for Derek until I finally found him, crouched over a thick volume.

"Whatcha reading?" I craned my neck to better see the cover.

He held the textbook-thick book. The Advanced Study of Quantitative Physics. Figures.

"Are you still into that stuff?" I asked curiously.

"This crap?" he glanced dismissively at the book. "All wrong."

"Oh, so now you're critiquing…" I glanced at the cover. "_Newton_?"

"The guy was a genius for his time, but that was so long ago. While some of his stuff is still proven today, most of it has been modified."

"Uh huh," I gave the book another doubtful glance. "Well are you ready to go?"

"Yep." he snapped the book shut with a decisive thud then courteously returned it to its proper place on the shelf. The librarian in me instantly approved. The rest of me still wasn't sure…

I led him to my car, trying to ignore how the seat squelched as I sat down. The upholstery was still soaking.

He gave me a wry grin as he patted the damp seats. "Left the windows open?"

I nodded curtly, trying to ignore his amused snort. Though the drive to Anna's school was short, the tension in the car was literally buzzing in the air. For the first time in ten years Derek was sitting only a foot away with his arms resting comfortably at his sides, looking perfectly at ease. Myself, I felt like screaming. Or hugging him. Or running away.

Instead I pulled right up to the curb in front of my daughter's school and waved her over from where she was standing in line with the rest of the preschoolers.

She waved back and, with a hug for her teacher, ran over to the car. Giddily she climbed inside, starting to talk even before she was sitting down. "Hi mommy! Today we played dress up during free time and then we heard this really cool story about a bear and-"

Her babbling broke off suddenly as she noticed Derek sitting in the front seat. He had turned around to face her and there was a wistful, regretful expression on his face. "She's beautiful," he breathed. "She looks just like you."

Anna turned to me with a question in her eyes, not old enough to find this large dark man intimidating.

"Anna honey," I took a deep breath. "This is Derek."

"Hi Anna," there was a gentle tenderness in his voice as he held out his hand.

With one more cautious glance at me, she turned to him and shook his hand solemnly.

"You look kind of like Daddy," she said after a minute.

Derek winced and withdrew his hand, sinking back into his seat.

I didn't know what to say, so I just drove.

When we arrived at the house Kathy was just throwing in the pasta on the stove. "Hey! How was work?" she called without turning around.

"Good." I went over to where Roger was picking at cheerios in his high chair and scooped him up, bouncing him in my arms. "Kathy, I'd like you to meet Derek."

She whirled, brandishing a wooden spoon to study Derek intensely. Some cold unreadable emotion flashed through her eyes, but just as soon as it had appeared it was gone. "Ah," she glanced at me and raised an amused eyebrow. "Hello, Derek."

"Hello," he greeted pleasantly, stepping around the pile of crayons on the floor to shake her hand.

"Derek's going to join us for dinner." I informed her then, realizing how rude that was, hastened to put in, "would you be able to stay, too?"

She gave a small shake of her head. "No thanks. 'Grey's Anatomy' is on tonight. New episode, gotta watch it."

I smiled. "Of course. Let me know what happens."

She shrugged on her rain jacket and gave a little wave. Then she was gone, melting out into the rain.

I took her place by the stove, balancing the baby on one hip and stirring the pasta with the other.

"Here," Derek stepped forward and reached for Roger, "Let me take him."

I drew back slightly, shifting so my son was settled more comfortably against my shoulder. "That's ok, I got him."

Looking a little dejected Derek nodded and took a step back.

Once the pasta was almost cooked, I called Anna in from the TV room. "An, would you mind setting the table?"

A pause and then the patter of footsteps as she ran into the kitchen. From the lowest drawer she withdrew a stack of mismatched plastic plates which she plopped down around the table, stretching on her tip-toes to reach. Then came the silverware, dumped in an unceremonious heap in the center.

Anna stood up on one of the wooden chairs and, wobbling, picked up the lemonade pitcher on the table, moving to pour it into a cup. Before I could stop her from spilling it everywhere, Derek swooped in and pried the pitcher from her. "How about _I_ do that?" he suggested gently.

"Thanks," I turned back to the pasta, tossing it into a strainer and tilting the shoulder with Roger on it away to keep the steam that flew up in a cloud from burning his eyes.

I poured the noodles into a bowl, grabbed a serving spoon, and eased Roger back into his high chair. "Dinner's ready!" I pronounced, tucking Anna's chair in for her. She lunged forward to grab the spoon first, piling buttered pasta onto her plate. "_Anna_!" I scolded. "We have a guest."

"Oh. Here," she rocked back in her chair and passed the spoon to Derek who was sitting next to her, across from me.

"No that's ok. You go first," he urged.

She shot me a triumphant look and resumed hogging the pasta. It was a struggle to keep myself from smiling- that would be bad parenting.

After her serving of pasta was safely on her plate, Anna turned to the parmesan, shaking the green container like a maraca. When she was done there was more cheese than pasta on her plate.

When the serving spoon was passed to me, I scooped some into Roger's plastic kiddie bowl and some onto my own plate. I resumed the typical dinner routine; take a bite of my own food then use a miniature Pooh Bear fork to coax Roger into eating a bite. That didn't leave me much room for talking, so Derek did.

"So how old are you, Anna?" He asked, turning to my daughter.

She held up three fingers. "I'm four years old!"

"I think you need one more, kiddo." He took her tiny hand in his own and gently lifted her finger so she had four.

"No, that's _wrong_!" she insisted.

"How do you count to four?"

"One. Two. Three. Four." As she was listing her numbers she raised her fingers, ending up with the proper number. "Oh. I guess that _is_ right…" There was a disgruntled expression on her face, her button nose scrunched up as she studied her finger tips unsatisfactorily.

He laughed, a deep throaty sound that made my heart lift. His green eyes were sparkling, bright with love and amusement. It was almost easy to picture Stephen sitting in his place, laughing. At the very least Stephen would fit more into the setting; our cluttered closet-sized kitchen with the tiny marker streaked wooden table.

It was easy to pretend he was back, and we were a family again.

**Whaddya think? Review please!**

**oh, and if you wanted to check out my other stories ****The Risks**** or ****The Beginning**** I wouldn't be overly upset :P **


	5. Chapter 5

**About the last chapter- I have no idea why the first few sentences are randomly italicized. On my computer it's normal, so sorry.**

After dinner Anna begged Derek, her new favorite playmate, to join her tea party. He politely declined. "Sorry kiddo," his new pet name for her, "but I've got to leave now if I want to get a room at the hotel."

"You're staying at a hotel?" I blurted without thinking.

He gave me a steady look. "Well not yet. I still need to _find_ a hotel with an empty room…"

"Why don't you just stay here for the night?" I don't know why I offered, it just seemed like the right thing to do. And I wasn't ready to say goodbye to him again, not just yet. Tonight had been the first night in five months that I hadn't been stressed and head-achy. I even had _fun_. Derek had proven to be great with the kids and a big help, clearing the table for me and drying the dishes I washed.

If I hadn't known him so well (or _used to_ know him so well), I would have missed the surprise in his eyes. "Well I wouldn't want to be any trouble…"

"Now we can play tea party!" Anna said firmly, taking his hand and dragging him down the hall to her room.

"Well that settles it," amusement colored my voice. "You simply _must_ stay to play tea party."

"Yes," he smiled widely. "I guess I must."

Getting Roger ready for bed took an hour, after the bath, diaper changes, and coaxing him into his pajamas. By the time I had lain him in his crib and turned off the light, hovering in the room for several extra minutes to be sure he wasn't going to start crying, it was Anna's bed time.

I followed the voices down the hall to the tiny room at the end. I stood in the doorway for a minute, grinning as I drank in the scene. Anna's room was tiny, worn beige carpet with pale pink walls, lavender stars sponged onto the white ceiling. Her low bed with the Disney princess sheets was tucked into the corner and the rest of the room looked like a piñata full of toys had exploded in it. Dolls, costumes, and plastic accessories were strewn all over the place in the typical fashion of a little girl.

What caught my eyes, though, were the two figures sitting across from each other in the center of the room.

Anna, facing me, was wearing a long string of plastic pink beads and one white silk glove, a bejeweled tiara balanced precariously on the top of her head. She was sipping noisily from a pink plastic teacup, making loud slurping noises from the side of her mouth to simulate drinking. At the same time she was dumping the matching teapot over another teacup, held out by Derek. From behind I could tell he was wearing the matching tiara and a humongous hot pink feather boa interwoven with strands of sparkly nylon. It was all I could do not to burst out laughing.

"Having fun?" I asked after a moment, once I had my laughter in check.

Anna glanced up at me beaming and Derek turned, green eyes flashing. "Definitely." he grinned, then sneezed on the boa. Now I actually _did_ laugh, great stomach-shaking chortles that left me rasping for breath. Derek joined in, and then Anna, though she had a puzzled expression on her face like she didn't get the joke. Pretty soon our laughing woke up Roger, who began crying out.

"Anna, put on your pajamas." I instructed, still giggling, as I went to comfort my son. Derek followed me, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. He was still wearing the boa and tiara, both of which looked oddly tiny on such a big man. It made my laughter start up again with renewed intensity.

"You like?" he tossed the boa over his shoulder and fluttered his eyelashes.

"It's a nice look for you." I promised with fake solemnity.

I leaned over the crib and picked up Roger, bouncing him in my arms until his wails dissolved into sniffles. "There," I crooned, "It's ok. Try and sleep."

It was only a minute later that he fell asleep in my arms. I have long been envious that babies could fall in and out of sleep so quickly, and my son was no exception.

Gingerly I lowered him back into the crib and led Derek back out of the room at a tip-toe.

"I have to go tuck Anna into bed now and read her a story." I whispered, once Roger's door had been safely closed. "The TV remote should be on the coffee table downstairs-"

"I can read her a story, if you want." he told me.

Though his offer had been innocent enough, I felt a pinch of worry about how Anna would react. Before he left, Stephen had always been the one to read her a story. It was their special thing, a magical moment before bed that I was not invited to join in. Sometimes I would listen at the door as he spun fabulous tales of magic and princesses, everything a little girl dreams of. Most of the time he made the stories up on the spot- very rarely was there a book in his hands. And Anna, little Anna, would listen spell-bound, hanging on to his every word. She never knew I was there watching, but Stephen did. He would wink at me, smiling down at our awestruck daughter.

After his departure, I took over the reading task. I wasn't creative enough to make them up like he did, though, and I still had yet to see that look of mesmerism return to grace my daughter's face.

How would she react to another man reading the stories?

"Chloe?" Derek pressed, making me realize I hadn't said anything for the past few minutes.

"Sure." I decided. "Go for it. I'll get the guest room ready for you."

He gave me a small smile, clearly reading my hesitation in the decision. Then we parted ways, him going back into Anna's room and me heading to the seldom used guest room.

It was smaller than Anna's room (which is saying something), all shades of the palest blue. I put sheets on the bed and fluffed up the pillows, licking the edge of my shirt and wiping it along the top of the dresser to get rid of at least the top layer of the inch thick dust.

"Is this the guest room?" I jumped, not having heard him come up behind me.

He gave a low chuckle and I could picture what he was thinking. _She hasn't changed a bit_.

"Yeah." I stepped back, sweeping my arms out to gesture at the room at large. "Five star."

"Well thanks." We stood there in the cramped room for a moment in silence, neither one of us knowing what to say.

After a moment curiosity spurred me to ask, "What story did you tell Anna?"

He looked at me steadily. "A tale of a witch, a sorcerer, a werewolf, and a necromancer on the run from a group of evil scientists."

My blood seemed to freeze and I felt paralyzed. "You…you _didn't_!"

He snickered. "Of course not. The Little Engine Who Could." I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Don't you _dare_ tell _either_ of them _anything_ about that stuff." I brandished a finger at him, dead serious.

"Of course I won't. Not if you don't want them to know," he looked offended that I would even think that. "But are either of them, you know…"

"No." I shook my head firmly. "Neither of them are necromancers. At least, not that I know of. But _my_ powers didn't show up until late…"

"Relax," he picked up on the stress in my voice, correctly guessing I had spent many a night losing sleep over this possibility. "I'm sure they're both going to be normal."

I let out a heavy breath. "God, I hope so."

"You look tired," his voice was sympathetic.

"Yeah," I admitted, feeling leaden with fatigue. This was how I felt at the end of every night since Stephen had left, like I was running on empty.

"Thanks for letting me stay here for the night."

"Yeah." I repeated stupidly. Then, recovering my composure said "goodnight," and left.

Lying in my own bed, on the left side as usual though there was no one to occupy the right, I tossed and turned, thoughts straying down the hall two doors to the right.

I couldn't sleep knowing he was so close and _alive_.

_Tomorrow,_ I vowed, _he'll be gone and I'll never have to think of him again_.

Even _I_ knew this wasn't- _couldn't be_- true, but I was willing to lie to myself. Anything to keep hold of the rapidly unraveling strands of normalcy in my life.

**Lol princess Derek. Even **_**I**_** am having trouble picturing it, and I'm the one who wrote it! Review please!**


	6. Chapter 6

When I woke up in the morning to sun streaming through the window, I figured it was an acceptable time to get out of bed. I detached myself from the sheets and instinctually reached for my faded yellow robe hanging on the back of the bathroom door but then withdrew my hand. I definitely didn't want to go to breakfast in a tattered robe with our houseguest.

Instead I turned to the shower, rushing through the washing task and pulling on a crisp white blouse and black slacks. A little nicer than I would usually wear, but if this was to be the last time I ever saw Derek, I wanted to leave a good impression.

I tugged down the blouse, fidgeting until it fell just right. Then my eyes turned to the seldom used makeup on the counter. Usually I only bothered with some eyeliner or blush but today…

Feeling slightly silly all dressed up at only 7:00 am, I went to the kitchen to begin cooking breakfast. I was met with a shock when I got there to find Derek already at the stove, tossing up some eggs in a frying pan.

"Good morning," he greeted without turning around. He was dressed in a different pair of jeans and sweatshirt than last night. That was funny- I didn't remember him having a suitcase.

As if he could read my mind he said, "I texted Simon, asking him to teleport my stuff here."

"Ah." I moved to set the table, placing plates around the perimeter. "Thanks for making breakfast."

"No problem." He turned with an omelet balanced precariously on a spatula to slide it onto the plate I had just been about to set down. If he noticed my spiffy appearance, he didn't comment, instead turning back to crack another egg over the pan.

After a moment Anna wandered in, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "Good morning, honey," I smiled at her. "Did you sleep well?"

She froze, one hand still covering her left eye. "Why are you all dressed up, Mommy?"

"Well," I felt a blush spread to my cheeks as I knelt down next to her, lowering my voice even though I knew he'd still be able to hear. "When you have guests over, it's not polite to wear your pajamas to breakfast."

Her fist swung back to her side and she looked doubtfully down at her own pink nightgown. "I guess I should go get dressed now."

"No, you're fine," I assured her. "It's more of a grown-up rule."

"Oh," she nodded as if this made perfect sense. "Ok then."

She hopped up to her seat at the table, grinning as she saw the omelet. "Mommy _never_ makes eggs on school days!"

"Yes, well," my face turned tomato red again. "We're so busy in the mornings, Mommy usually doesn't have time to make eggs."

"Then this is a special treat," Derek winked at me.

Right on cue Roger's bawling floated into the kitchen. I scurried away, relieved for the excuse to escape. "Hey, ssh…" I soothed, cradling him in my arms. "Let's go eat some yummy, yummy breakfast, ok?"

His tears dried up instantly (as they were prone to do) and I was able to carry him into the kitchen and strap him into his high chair. A cut up omelet was already in a small bowl for him. I smiled at Derek, who was just sliding the last omelet onto his own plate.

As the four of us sat down to eat, it again reminded me of the family times we had when Stephen was here. That is, until Derek offered to clear the table. This took me by surprise. When Stephen was here, clearing the table and doing the dishes had always been _my_ job. However much it irked me that he seldom helped with that, he did lots of other things around the house. It was impossible to imagine Stephen in Derek's place, clearing the table.

"Th-Thanks," I stuttered with surprise. Anna gave me an odd look.

Pretty soon I was hustling Anna into her room to get dressed while simultaneously yanking a shirt over Roger's head. The magical stress-less morning had evaporated in the scramble to get ready for the day.

"Here. I made Anna some lunch. I hope it's ok that I used the ham and cheese in the fridge door." Derek handed me a brown bag.

I took it gratefully, not bothering to point out she had a reusable lunchbox to bring. I deposited the food in her backpack, tugging up the zipper before she could see and complain.

"Ready to go, love?" I asked when she skipped into the entranceway.

"Ye- No!" she skidded to a stop. "Gotta brush my teeth!"

I shook my head in amusement as she ran off to do that. I glanced at my watch and frowned. Where was Kathy? It wasn't like her to be late.

"_Now_ I'm ready." Anna announced smugly as she sauntered over to slip on her backpack.

"Wear a jacket." I ordered, watching the trees sway out the window.

Grumbling under her breath she did as I asked.

I glanced at my watch again. If we didn't leave now, Anna would be late for school and I'd be late for work _again_. I didn't want to give Pearl any more ammunition against me and I _needed _this job.

Derek noticed my impatience. "Go. I'll watch Roger until she gets here."

I looked up at him sharply. "And when she _does_ get here?"

He shrugged. "I'll walk around downtown. Maybe look for a job. This is a pretty nice neighborhood. I was thinking of settling down here." A small part of me couldn't help but wonder if this was because of me.

"What are you going to do tonight?"

"Find a hotel."

"You could stay here again. If you want, that is."

He gave me an undecipherable look before slowly nodding. "If you don't mind having me, that'd be great."

"Sure." I agreed. And thus, the deal was made.

I left Derek and Roger on the floor in the TV room with plastic trucks. When I arrived home again, they were in the same position. Kathy was sitting on the couch smiling down at them.

"_Beep-beep_!" Derek cried, maneuvering the yellow bulldozer around the thick brown carpet. Roger gave a delighted squeal and clapped his hands.

"Having fun?" I plopped my purse down on the floor to the side of the doorway.

Derek looked up at me and grinned for a minute, green eyes smirking.

Roger, growing impatient, picked up a truck and hit Derek on the head with it. He winced theatrically, rubbing at it and scowling.

"Roger!" I gasped horrified, rushing forward to scoop him into my arms. "No!" I shook a finger at him, keeping my expression stern. "We don't hit."

I could have sworn he rolled his eyes at me, but I set him back down.

"Hi, Kathy." I turned to acknowledge the babysitter, ignoring the sting of annoyance I felt towards her.

"Hey, Chloe. Sorry I was late this morning-"

"It's ok." I interrupted, not needing to hear her excuses.

"The lasagna's heating in the oven." It was her attempt at redemption and I treated it as such.

I softened my expression and gave her a tiny smile. "Thanks, Kathy. Can you stay for dinner?"

"Not tonight." she hefted herself to her feet, pulling on her jacket as she did so. "Goodbye."

"Bye-" I was speaking to a closed door.

"Well _she_ was in a rush." I commented dryly to myself.

"Guess so." Derek knew better than to look up from his and Roger's game of trucks this time.

"I'm going to go brush Samantha's hair." Anna ran off, cradling her rag doll.

"Ok, honey." I murmured, sinking down to take Kathy's spot on the couch.

The three of us still in the TV room sat in contented silence for several moments, the only noises the random truck sounds the guys would make.

"How'd the job hunting go?" I asked eventually.

"Still working on it," he responded evenly. "But I got an interview at an insurance company."

"Insurance?" I raised an eyebrow but I don't think he noticed.

"Why not? Look out, Roger!" he bumped his truck against Roger's, causing him to erupt in raucous laughter.

I shook my head at the pair and stood up to go check on the lasagna. It was almost ready so I pulled it out of the oven, still smoking.

"Come eat!" I hollered to my kids and our guest. The three of them trooped in (well- four if you count Samantha). Derek lowered Roger off his shoulders and tied him into his chair.

"No toys at the table, Anna," I ordered when she put Samantha down next to her plate. She pouted but complied, tossing the doll in an ungracious heap in the corner of the room.

The meal was quiet, accompanied only by the clinking of forks and knives. After dinner Derek helped me put the kids to bed, just like last night. Finally it was just the two of us.

"Thanks again, Chloe. Goodnight-" he moved to enter the guest room but I cut him off.

"What's going on, Derek?"

"What do you mean?" his tone was wary.

"You- you're great at helping around the house. You're great with my kids. I want to know what's up with that."

"They're great kids," he defended, giving me a confused look.

I put my hands on my hips and wished (not for the first time) that I was taller. "The Derek _I_ knew ten years ago would never, _ever_ play tea party. _Ever_." I repeated for emphasis. Last night I had chocked it up to him having changed over the past ten years, but after seeing him with Roger today I was skeptical that it was something more.

He sighed, knowing I had got him. "You're right. I hate tea party." I was tempted to give a triumphant cry but managed to keep still, waiting coolly for his explanation. "But I _wasn't_ kidding about your kids. They really are great."

"Thanks." I said crisply, knowing he wasn't done yet.

When he realized I wasn't going to accept that as the only explanation, he sighed again. "The way to a single mother's heart is through her kids." it sounded suspiciously like a quote from some dating advice book.

Instantly my cheeks turned scarlet and I stepped away from the door to let him pass.

Did he…could he…does Derek still love me?

"Goodnight, Chloe." I nodded a numb response, standing in the hallway long after the door had closed.

**All right, I apologize for the lack of action so far. I swear- stuff will start happening in a few chapters. In the meantime, please keep reading! (And hopefully reviewing…I love to hear your feedback!)**


	7. Chapter 7

**Wow, I am **_**soooooo**_** sorry I haven't posted in forever! I've been so busy with school, sports, and my job…there just hasn't been time to write. Hopefully you'll still want to read it!**

By unspoken agreement Derek stayed for another night. And another. And another…

We quickly settled into a routine, him helping with household chores and the kids without being asked, me working and trying to hold my life together.

Until Friday morning when Anna woke up with a low fever. "Do I have to go to school?" she looked up from the table where I had stationed her with the thermometer under her tongue.

I sighed. "No, not today." In preschool where germs spread like wildfire the parents must abide by the motto 'when in doubt, keep your kids at home.'

I reached for the phone to call Kathy. "Yeah, Anna woke up sick," I told her. She gave me her condolences then I hung up.

Derek, already fully dressed, came into the kitchen and sat down at the table beside Anna.

"_I'm_ sick," she boasted, waving the thermometer at him.

"Uh-oh." the corners of his mouth turned down in a frown.

"Nuh-uh." she shook her head. "That's _good_. I get to stay home and play all day!"

Amusement glittered in his eyes. "Oh, well in _that_ case, congratulations." She giggled.

"What are your plans for the day, Derek?" I slid a plate of toaster waffles in front of him.

He looked up at me. "I'll stay home with Anna, if you want."

I appreciated the offer but a sick child always needs their mother. Strangers just won't cut it. "Thanks, but I think _I'd_ better stay home with her."

"Are you sure?"

I nodded. "But thanks. Really."

"Well I can take Roger to the park or something, if you want…"

"Oh, would you mind?" That way I could focus my entire attention on my sick daughter.

"No problem." he grinned across the table at Roger who was slurping from his sippy-cup of apple juice. "You hear that buddy? We're going to go to the park!"

"You. In bed." I ordered Anna, who had begun pleading with Derek to take _her_ to the park too. She pouted but didn't argue, stomping off to her bedroom.

"Are you sure she's sick?" Derek watched her go, teasing.

I shook my head doubtfully. "Anna gets sick, she just doesn't _feel_ sick." He smirked. "Besides, what can compete with the park?"

Pretty soon Derek and Roger were departing for the park and I was going in to check on Anna. She had barricaded herself in her bed with a fortress of toys and books, a solid wall of stuffed animals standing between her and me. She was rocking a teddy bear in her arms, singing softly to it a tuneless melody.

"How're you feeling, hon?" I asked.

"Bored." A thin sheen of sweat shone on her forehead and her blue eyes glittered too brightly.

I gently lifted up Mr. Rabbit and placed him at the foot of her bed, perching on the space he had abdicated. "Can I read you a story?"

"Ok. This one." she passed me her favorite princess story. I read it out loud, wishing again I had Stephen's knack for telling stories. When I finished she handed me another to read.

The next hour found me reading more stories, playing tea party, and posing Barbies- at least a better way to spend the afternoon than working.

"Are you getting hungry for lunch, An?" I asked at last.

"Yep."

"How do hot dogs sound?" it was a traditional joke in our family: whenever someone's sick they eat chicken noodle soup, whatever the ailment.

She rolled her eyes at me. "_No,_ Mommy," she sounded like a mini-teenager in her 'duh' voice, another ghost of her future come to haunt me. "I have to eat _soup_."

I smiled, playing along. "Oh right!" I pantomimed smacking myself in the head. "Tomato?"

"_No!_" she repeated with agitation. "Chicken Noodle!"

"Ok, ok. I'll be right back with your _chicken noodle soup_." She giggled and sank lower beneath the covers.

I quickly turned the water on the stove to boiling and tossed in a can of Campbell's Chicken Noodle. I hummed to myself as I leaned against the counter, waiting for it to be done. It was only once I was ladling it into a bowl that I realized I was humming _Seasons of Love_, Stephen and my wedding song.

I cut myself off mid-song, fighting the tears that threatened to bite the backs of my eyes. Once I had my emotions in check, I carefully carried the soup down the hall, trying to avoid sloshing drops of broth onto the carpet.

"Here's your-" my voice died as I realized she had fallen asleep, one arm still tangled around her teddy bear.

I smiled again to myself, balancing the bowl of soup in one hand as I used the other to peel away the bear and pull the covers up more. "Feel better, Sweetie," I whispered, leaning down to breath a kiss on her sweaty forehead.

As I left I flicked off the light and creaked the door partially shut.

In the kitchen, I set the bowl of soup on the counter. I could always reheat it for her later. Then I turned to the pile of dishes that had accumulated from breakfast. That only took fifteen minutes so, having no other excuse, I turned to the stack of bills that had previously been banished to the farthest corner of the kitchen desk. Time to get this over with.

Derek came home to find me slumped at the kitchen table, head cradled in my hands as I stared listlessly at the pile of papers before me. He froze in the doorway for a brief moment before snapping into action.

"Come on, Roger, let's go take a nap." he spirited away my son and reemerged several moments later.

"What's wrong?" his voice was full of barely suppressed anxiety as he came over to stand behind me, following my gaze.

"I can't do this anymore, Derek," I whispered, only realizing then tears had silently been leaking down my cheeks for the past half hour.

"Do what?" He pulled a chair around to sit down next to me, picking up the paperwork for closer examination.

"_This_," I gestured at the pile in front of me then at the whole house in general.

"So you're a little behind on your taxes…" his tone made it out to be no big deal.

"A little?" I gave a little laugh, though there was no humor in the sound. "I'm $109,000 in debt."

"We can fix that…"

"_How_?" I turned to him, daring with my eyes for him to come up with a solution. "How am I supposed to come up with that money? You think my library salary will cover that?"

He fell silent, not having an answer. Instead, he settled into a brooding silence. I could almost hear the gears turning in his mind.

I continued, "I'd get another job but any half decent paying one would require a commute I couldn't make each day. I need to be able to be home for the kids…God knows I haven't paid Kathy in two months and it's only a matter of time before she starts asking for the money."

I almost wished he _would_ come up with an idea, any idea. If I was the same Chloe from ten years ago I would have believed he could have. The truth was, I _wasn't_ the same naïve teenage girl I was ten years ago. Now I knew better; I had _responsibilities_ to my family- responsibilities I was failing.

"Mommy, can I have my soup now?" Anna's voice floated down the hallway.

I sighed, pushing myself to my feet and dabbing at my cheeks. Time for wallowing in self pity later- right now I needed to feed my daughter.

"I'll bring it to her," Derek offered, spying the bowl on the counter. He beat me to it, sticking it in the microwave and putting it on 'reheat'. I didn't really feel up to protesting so I sank back down into my chair, resuming glaring at the bills as if sheer will-power could make them disappear.

Derek left for a moment then came back, soup-less. He sat down again and crossed his arms, sitting still for so long I feared he was going to turn to marble.

Finally, when I thought all chances of him speaking were gone, he surprised me. Instead of a brilliant plan to escape the economic spider web I had allowed myself to be caught in, he said, "Let me take you out to dinner tomorrow night."

I gasped, jerking back from the table as if stung. "_Huh_?"

"You need a distraction." he declared, pushing away from the table and standing up.

"No, I-"

"I'd say I'll pick you up at seven, but you _are_ the one with the car…" a thoughtful gleam came into his eyes.

"Derek, you can't be serious. I mean…" I floundered for words to mask my shock.

"Look, Chloe. It doesn't have to be romantic or anything, not if you don't want it to be. Just two friends going to dinner to relax and take our minds off things."

"Oh, Derek, I don't know…" It sounded much too much like a 'date' for my taste.

"You can call Kathy. I'm sure she won't mind babysitting on a Saturday night. I'll even pay her for you."

My cheeks flamed bright red as I realized I had just disclosed to him the true extent of my economic dilemma. "That won't be necessary," I mumbled, so softly I doubt he heard me.

"Then it's a plan. Tomorrow we'll go out to some fancy, over priced restaurant together." His green eyes glittered like two emeralds, or perhaps more accurately, sea glass.

"Okay." I found myself nodding slowly. "Tomorrow night."

From somewhere down the hallway a baby cried and a girl yelled "Mom! I finished the soup!"

**Finally- Derek makes a somewhat-romantic move ;)**

**Let me know what you thought! I swear- action **_**is**_** coming…just keep with it for another chapter or two! I'll try and update ASAP!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hope you like this chapter!**

"So the kids' bedtime's about 8:00," I was transferring the necessary contents of my day-purse to a smaller silvery one that matched the casual dress I had so painstakingly selected this afternoon after hours in the mirror. "Anna can stay up a half hour or so later, but she has to be in bed reading a book or playing quietly…"

I felt a steadying hand on my shoulder. "Chloe, breathe. I've babysat the kids before," Kathy reminded me.

I nodded shakily, following her advice and taking a deep breath. "Right, sorry. Just you haven't done it at _night_ before…"

"I've raised my own kids, remember? I can handle it."

I felt inclined to argue, unwilling to give up care of my kids at so late a time, but at that precise moment Derek descended the stairs, clad in a pale blue cotton shirt and black tie. "Ready?" his eyes roved my dress approvingly but he didn't comment, a fact I was grateful for.

I took one more calming deep breath and nodded, shoving my lip gloss into the silver purse and hooking it over one shoulder. I glanced at the clock then back to Kathy. "We should probably be back around nine o'clock. No later than ten, absolute tops."

"Perfect. I'll be here," she vowed.

"Ok, well then…" I trailed off, unable to fight the feeling I was forgetting some crucial detail.

"Go. We'll be fine. Aren't we going to have fun, Anna?" she turned to Anna who had latched herself onto my leg. As she was usually at school when Kathy was here, she wasn't as used to the babysitter as Roger was. And I couldn't even _remember_ the last time Stephen and I went out at night and needed a babysitter.

I knelt down to be eye-level with my daughter who, in her pajamas, was looking at me with fearfully wide blue eyes. "You guys are going to have lots of fun," I assured her.

"But you said I won't see you until tomorrow _morning_!" she wailed, gripping my leg even tighter.

I gently detached her intertwined arms, holding her a foot across from me. "If you're good, Kathy might read you a bedtime story."

"Which one?" Anna's face turned instantly suspicious.

"Whichever one you want," Kathy promised, winking at me when An wasn't looking.

"Oh. Ok then." Ah, how I loved my bipolar young daughter. She skipped away from me and grabbed onto Kathy's hand instead.

I stood up, readjusting my purse strap. "Bye guys. Love you!" I called as Derek steered me out of the kitchen.

"They'll be fine," he whispered, so low only I could hear.

"Thanks, Kathy!" I tossed over my shoulder and then the door was swinging shut behind us. I couldn't help but feel I was in some way abandoning my kids, the door serving to sever our relationship.

Derek, withdrawing the arm that had been resting on my elbow, tucked his hands into his pockets. "Don't worry about them," he said cheerfully. "Tonight you're supposed to _stop_ worrying."

I halted in my tracks as I suddenly realized something. "I didn't give them goodnight kisses!" I made to turn and go back but Derek lunged forward and caught me.

"Chloe," he spoke slowly, enunciating each syllable. "They. Will. Be. _Fine_. You'll see them when we get back."

"Ok, ok," I muttered, flinging open the car door and sitting in the passenger seat. Derek had previously insisted _he_ drive. "Where are you taking me?" I asked once we were zipping down the street at a speed I hadn't thought my car capable of.

"Just a place in town." he refused to elaborate, but a few minutes later my question was answered as we pulled up to the curb in front of the nicest restaurant in town: a real white-tablecloth type.

"_Just_ a place?" I raised an eyebrow.

He shrugged, courteously opening my car door for me. "It _is_ in town."

Shaking my head, I followed him into the warm and glowing restaurant. Classy soft jazz was breathing through the speakers, and all the staff was in matching black and white penguin gear. I didn't think I'd eaten at a place _this_ fancy since before I left my dad all those years ago.

"Table for two, please." he told the hostess.

She scooped up two (leather bound!) menus, and led the way to a tiny corner table. I sat down across from Derek, shrugging off my sweater and draping it over the back of my chair. "Your server will be right with you," she said before whisking herself away again to assist the next couple who had wandered in. Wait- I did a mental face-palm. Derek and I were _not_ a couple, I couldn't let the romantic atmosphere get to me.

"Do you know what you're going to order?" he nodded at the menu I was clutching with white knuckles.

Hastily I unfolded it, wishing I could seem as cool and composed as he did. I scanned the page, looking only at the price column. I found the cheapest thing (which still came to a grand total of $11.39) and traced my finger across to discover what the dish was. "I think I'm going to have…garlic breadsticks?" Darn- I was in the appetizer section.

"Sure," he agreed smoothly.

"Wait, no. Never mind." I could feel the blush heating my cheeks. "We don't have to get an appetizer…"

"Garlic breadsticks sound delicious." his tone clearly said the matter was closed.

"Hi, I'm Michaela and I'll be your server today," a perky college student with an elegant bob approached our table with an ear-to-ear smile on her face. "What can I get you guys to drink?"

"Water please."

"Same for me."

She grinned again. "I'll be right back with that."

"So what are _you_ going to get?" I asked Derek once she had left, peeking at him over the edge of my menu.

He didn't look up. "Hmm…not sure yet." A moment later the waitress returned and we ordered. I got fettuccini alfredo and Derek chose prime ribs.

"So…" I said once the waitress had again departed, just wanting to fill the awkward silence.

"How did you meet the other guy?" he blurted suddenly.

"What?" I was sure I had heard wrong.

He remained stoic on the outside, only the swirling depths of his green eyes as they suddenly met mine betraying his inner turmoil. "How did you and- whats-his-name, Stephen?-meet?"

"At a grocery store." I replied honestly.

He snorted then instantly sobered. "Sorry, sorry. But really? A _grocery store_? Not the most _romantic_ location…"

"Well…" he had a point, but the meeting location didn't necessarily determine love.

"Does this give me a one-up, then?" he nodded at the restaurant around us.

"A one-up?" he didn't answer. After a moment I continued, "Well, _we_ didn't just meet."

"It's only been ten years."

"_Only_?"

"Well-"

"Here you go! The fettuccini and prime ribs!" Two plates were slid in front of us. "Enjoy!"

Neither of us resumed the previous conversation, instead turning to more trivial things like Anna's schoolwork and Derek's job hunt. The food was delicious, even if it _was_ overpriced.

All too soon the meal was over, me in a somewhat hazy stupor by the end. It had been so nice to just _talk_ to Derek again, I could almost pretend the time was ten years ago and we were still a couple, nothing had changed.

Afterwards he suggested we go get ice cream at the place next door. It was so childlike and innocently romantic sitting on a bench in front of the ice cream parlor at night, I fell even more deeply into the illusion of the past.

We were just about to throw our cups away in the metal trashcan on the sidewalk when Derek leaned in and kissed me, right out of the blue.

I was too paralyzed with shock to do anything but stand there, listening to the frantic pounding of my heart as it tried to burst free of its cage. I was breathing heavily when a moment later he withdrew, looking searchingly into my eyes. "Chloe?" he whispered my name.

I took a deep steadying breath, swimming in green eyes that reminded me so much of my ex-husband. Or was it the other way around? I had initially been attracted to Stephen _because_ he reminded me of Derek, yet now it had switched. Stephen and Derek: one and the same.

I _had _loved them both, and now that I thought about it, I _could_ love either of them again.

I leaned forward and returned the kiss. It was a breathless kiss, one that wasn't so much desperate passion as gentle tenderness, love flowing between our lips more than saliva.

After a moment he pulled back _again_, this time leaving me slightly disappointed. I needn't have been, though.

His eyes were alive with a feverish glint; I almost suspected he was about to change, but then he spoke. "I was going to wait a while before this but…I already know I'm going to, so I might as well just go for it."

He took a deep breath, leaving me more confused than ever, though now filled with the ominous unease of dread. "Chloe Saunders," his tone was suspiciously solemn, "I have loved you for the past eleven years. Hopefully, you now feel the same…" _Oh God._

He went down on one knee and reached into his pocket.

_**Weeeeeellll**_**? Thoughts? I'd love to hear them!**

**Oh, and by the way…I was recently alerted to the fact that I forgot to especially mention Tori and Simon are not brother and sister in my story. That's why they are married. Ew- I **_**swear**_** they aren't related. **

**Predictions? PLEASE REVIEW!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Sorry for the mean cliffy! **

He held up an offering of a golden ring, a single diamond resting in the center. "Chloe Saunders," I gulped, knowing where this was heading. _He wouldn't…would he?_ "Will you marry me?"

A torrent of thoughts and emotions bombarded my brain, making me dizzy. I sank back down onto the bench we had eaten our ice cream on, thinking back to several years ago when the same question had been posed to me. Back then my answer had been definite and immediate: an exhilarated yes. But now? Now I wasn't so sure.

It wasn't that I didn't love Derek for, as I now realized, I did. Tonight had been fun, able to just to hang out and pretend we were high school sweethearts. All the feelings I had had towards Derek had been renewed. I used to love him, and I love him now. But there was a gap in that love, wrenched apart with his supposed 'death'. I had freely given half of my heart to another, and though he had tossed it away, I still had yet to find the rest. The part left was capable of only truly loving Anna and Roger. In time that may change but for now…

I was shocked into silence for so long he seemed to realize he had gone for it too soon. With a slight sigh as the only betrayal of his disappointment, he snapped the ring box shut again and tucked it back into his pocket. He stood up, brushing the dirt off his pants. "Guess that's a no then, huh?" He turned to me and smiled slightly, assuring me with his eyes that it was ok, he understood. But he _didn't_. He would think I didn't love him enough, but that wasn't it at all. I knew in time I _would_ and _could_ love him enough, but not right here this exact second.

"No, Derek, it's just I-"

"No, it's ok," he held up his hands in surrender. "You're not ready yet."

"Derek, I only found out you were alive five _days_ ago!" I defended, feeling the need to express my reluctance.

"I know, and I get it. Hopefully your answer will change in a little while longer…"

I sighed, standing up again. "It will," I vowed, "soon I'll say yes."

"That's all I need to know," he ducked in and pressed his lips against mine tentatively, as if testing if even that was ok. I kissed him back vigorously, wanting him to know that I _did_ want to marry him, eventually. I just couldn't make that commitment yet, not so soon.

After a moment he commented that it was getting late and we _had_ promised Kathy to be back by ten. Semi-reluctantly, I allowed him to lead me by the hand back to the car. It was a short ride back and then we were walking up the path.

"Wait-" he halted me on the top step. "One more."

We exchanged one last sweetly quick kiss and then I was too anxious to wait to see my kids any longer. I hated being apart from them ever since Stephen left. If he could disappear at a moment's notice, they probably could, too.

I gingerly creaked open the door, wincing at the loud squeak it omitted. The house was dark and silent, though I had expected such. The kids were asleep and Kathy was probably watching TV in the family room with the volume on low. I started tip-toeing in that direction before Derek's hand reached out and jolted me back a step.

"Derek, what-" I broke off as I caught sight of his face, dim in the darkness. His mouth was set in a hard line and he stepped in front of me defensively, sending a thrill of unexplained fear to my heart.

"There's no one here," he whispered.

"What?" I must have misheard.

"There's _no one here_," he repeated with emphasis.

"But Kathy, the kids-"

"They aren't here! The scents are all old and I can't hear _anyone_."

"You're wrong…I mean, they _have_ to be here…" panic was quickly threatening to engulf me. All I knew was my kids could be in danger; all sense of self-preservation fled from my mind. I shoved past Derek, ignoring his warning yelp of protest, and dashed to the TV room. It was empty.

Next I ran to Anna's room. "Anna!" I called, flinging open the door, hoping to find her sitting up rubbing the sleep out of her eyes and asking me what was wrong. The light from the hallway spilled into the room, spot-lighting the empty mattress with the sheets all bunched up.

"Oh god," I was just short of hyperventilating. My children, the people I loved most in the entire world, were missing. Tears leaked down my cheeks, and it was only a matter of seconds before I was sobbing openly.

"Chloe, they're gone," Derek crept up behind me. I whirled to glare at him, needing _someone _to blame.

"This is all your fault!" I yelled through my tears. "We were fine until _you_ came!"

"Chloe, no, I-"

"They're _gone_!" I screamed, a distant part of my subconscious noting I was losing it. All the happy feelings of the evening had evaporated. "_You_ caused this!"

"Chloe, I swear to God I had nothing to do with this!"

I clenched my hands into fists, trying to steady my breathing. The still rational part of my brain new Derek couldn't have had anything to do with their disappearance and I was only hurting him to with these accusations. "Move," I said at last, in a slightly calmer tone.

He stepped aside willingly, green eyes glittering with anxiety.

I walked past him to Roger's room, my last hope that maybe they were all going to be there, though of course I didn't really believe it.

"Anna, honey? Roger? Kathy?" I whispered, peeking around the door frame. The crib was empty.

The tears came silently now in a wave of grief and I sunk into the rocking chair in the corner. Derek came in and stood in the doorway.

"They really _are_ gone, aren't they, Derek?" I whispered, sounding like a desperate child.

After a moment's hesitation, he nodded. "But we _will_ find them, Chloe. I won't stop until we find them."

"Thanks."

We stayed like that for an eternity, me trying to deal with the total sense of loss I was now faced with and Derek trying to calculate a plan.

Finally I sighed and stood up, picking up a teddy bear strewn on the floor, more out of habit than anything else after so many years of picking up after my kids, and moved to put it in the crib.

I was just about to drop it next to the pillow when a square of cream caught my eye. All thoughts of the bear forgotten, I tossed it away and greedily scooped up the envelope that might, just _might_, contain an explanation. My fingers trembled so much I couldn't open it, so Derek took it from my hands and did it for me. He passed the folded up square of stationary that fell out of the envelope to me to read first. The handwriting was unfamiliar but the signature was Kathy's, so I inferred she was the author. That didn't make it any easier to read, though.

_Chloe,_

_I really am sorry for doing this, but I'm under orders. Of course we've always known you were Chloe Saunders, the escaped necromancer. It wasn't hard to track you down again after you and your old friends escaped that last time. But your generation is over, and the ones we really want now are your children. I was just waiting for a sign they were supernatural. I've long known Roger was a sorcerer, I was just waiting for Anna. Congratulations: your daughter's a necromancer. Tonight she was talking to people who I couldn't see, and that's when I realized our suspicions were correct. The best thing to do now would be continue living your life. Remarry, girl. Put yourself out there. Eventually you'll forget about Roger and Anna. And remember, I did- still do- consider you a friend. Our quarrel with you is over. _You_ are free. _

_The Edison Group lives._

_Kathy_.

I held the note in my hand for a long time, rereading it as if that would soften the blow of the words. Everything I had most feared had happened; the Edison Group had found us. Even worse, they kidnapped my children.

What especially stung was that Kathy, who I had considered a close friend, part of the _family_ even, was the one to betray us. 'I did-still do- consider you a friend' my ass. In kidnapping my kids, she severed all ties to me, and I was going to be out for revenge. Just as soon as I could convince my numb mind to restart.

After several more moments Derek gently pried the note from my fingers, taking only a few seconds to read it. When he was finished, he let out a soft breath.

"I think it's time you go get reacquainted with Simon," he said.

**Predictions? Comments? Reactions? I wanna hear them!**

**BTW- HAPPY BIRTHDAY to one of my fav. reviewers! You know who you are ;)**


	10. Chapter 10

**Sorry it's so late on the update. Hopefully you'll still like it…**

Derek drove to the bus stop, he purchased the tickets, he herded me onto the bus. Inside I was fuming, but I felt weighed down with the physical fatigue that came with the fear for my kids. What was happening? Why was this happening? What could I do to stop it?

We sat in the back row of the bus, only four other people on it this late at night. The driver grunted then swung the door shut and eased it forward.

As the bus began to move, I felt like I couldn't keep up the façade of calm anymore. Tears dripped down my cheeks, silent but filled with a grief deeper than the ocean. Wordlessly Derek handed me a tissue from a pack in his pocket, stroking the top of my head gently as I cried.

I don't know how long I cried, but eventually I was just too tired. I had no more energy for helpless tears. Derek, sensing I was spent both physically and emotionally, offered his shoulder as a pillow. I accepted, sinking my head down and drawing comfort from his rock-like presence beneath my cheek. _They'll be alright_…I promised myself, before my eyelids shut.

I woke to my name being whispered. "Chloe, we're here." I sat up, rubbing at my eyes blearily. Sleep, unfortunately, had not been able to erase the feelings of pain and anxiety. "Simon lives here?" I asked, as we pulled into a small downtown area, all store windows black, the sparsely situated streetlamps the only light source.

"Close enough," Derek led the way off the bus, grabbing my elbow for support as I tottered at the top of the stairs. My limbs were leaden, my brain fuzzy. I was still a numb shell of myself, but I didn't know how to fix that.

"This way," one arm around my waist (probably to ensure I didn't stagger around like a drunk) Derek propelled me down the main street, winding down another maze of roads as we reached the end of it. We saw no one else.

As the neighborhoods we ghosted through progressed, I noticed a gradual increase in size and adornments. It was in the last of these mansion streets that Derek halted in front of a brick fortress.

"_That's_ his house?" I couldn't keep out the twinge of envy in my voice.

"_Their _house," he reminded me. "Don't forget- Tori lives here, too."

"Right." I felt a pulse of fear. True, Tori and I had been making progress towards friendship prior to my disappearing act, but if I knew anything about her it was she was a notorious grudge holder. And she was definitely not happy with me for leaving.

"Let's go," he led the way up the gravel driveway, each audacious crunch of the rocks beneath my feet making me cringe.

Derek stopped at the intimidating mahogany door, the porch light flicking on. Human motion sensor? Or spell?

He took a deep breath, squeezing one last sideways peek at me before raising a fist to rap sharply on the door. Through the tinted glass set in the middle I saw a light in the foyer flash on and a blurry shape approaching, indiscernible through the distorted window. The voice that muttered as numerous locks clicked away was familiar, though. "I thought I told him no more damn midnight visitors…" Tori grumbled. At least four locks must have been turned before she finally paused, throwing her voice through the door. "Who is it?"

"The resistance is everything." Derek spoke calmly without hesitation.

An unsurprised grunt and then the final lock was turned, the door pulled open to reveal a tall woman in her mid-twenties clad in a thick purple bathrobe over her silk pajamas, spiky brown hair bobbed in a pixy-cut, chocolate eyes narrowed and scrutinizing. As she caught sight of Derek they widened into surprise and recognition. "Oh, hi, Der-" she broke off as I stepped forward. "No," she actually took a step back, eyes suddenly wary and hostile. She shook her head at me then turned to glare at Derek. "What is _she_ doing here?"

"_Tori_," he snapped, exasperated.

She ignored him, regaining her composer to lean against the propped open door and look me up and down. "Little Chloe Saunders," she shook her head again, this time in disbelief. "Guess you're alive after all."

"Yeah," I said lamely, not sure what else to add.

"Do you know how long we looked for you?"

"Look, Tori…I'm _really_ sorry…"

"Tori?" Another voice, painfully familiar, floated from deep inside the house. "Who's there?"

"Hey, bro," Derek craned his neck to peer around Tori. Simon's face appeared behind hers, looking over her shoulder.

"Derek? Did you find her?"

"Hi, Simon." I bit my lip, gauging his reaction.

He caught sight of me, squinting. "I'm gonna' go out on a limb here and assume this is Chloe?" he looked to Derek for confirmation, who nodded. Unlike Tori, who was still glaring at me, Simon's face stretched into a grin. He stepped around his wife (ugh- _that_ was going to take some getting used to) and stood next to me. Only then did I realize he had grown as tall as Derek, only with a more slender build. "Wow, it's so great to see you again…" he bent down to give me a friendly squeeze. Yep- Simon hadn't changed a bit. Tori shook her head and stomped off into the house.

"Ignore her," Simon followed her with his gaze. "She's still a bit temperamental…"

"I _heard_ that," Tori tossed back over her shoulder.

"Right now she's just cranky because she's worried," he dropped his voice to a whisper, confiding in us. "Dylan came down with a fever this afternoon and she's been paranoid. One day, Chloe, you'll probably understand a mother's protection. Me? I don't get it. He's going to be fine, which she _knows_. I think it's more of a mommy thing, being worried…"

Tears again stung the back of my eyes and I had to turn away to stare out over the expansive black lawn to avoid them spilling over.

"What? _Ow_." I turned to see Simon rubbing his elbow. "What was that for?" he glared at Derek.

Noticing me watching, Derek coughed. "Actually, that's kind of why we're here. Chloe _does_ have kids…"

"Oh shit," Simon ran a hand through his hair. "Wow, um…sorry, Chloe…I just kind of assumed…wow."

"…but they were just kidnapped by the Edison Group." Derek concluded. "Which is why we came here. We need your help."

"Oh god," Simon looked pale. "Come in," he ushered us into a marble-tiled entranceway, an elite white grand staircase winding upwards in front of me. Instead of heading up, Simon led the way through a series of elaborately furnished rooms, flicking on lights as he went. I followed him, not really bothering to take in the scenery and grandeur.

"Sit here," he halted in the kitchen, pointing at an auburn colored wooden table polished to a high gloss. "_Tori_!"

"What?" she stomped in, pouting like a sulky child.

"Go notify the others."

"_Now_?" her tone was incredulous.

He nodded grimly. "This is important."

"All right, but they won't like being woken up."

"Too bad for them."

She rolled her eyes but went over to a door set in the wall I had assumed to be a pantry. She swung it open to reveal a narrow staircase, which she proceeded to descend.

Simon, who had been busy at the coffee maker during this exchange, plopped two steaming mugs down in front of us. "Tell me everything." he ordered, sitting down.

While Derek supplied the details, I turned my gaze to the staircase. It seemed out of place in the otherwise expansive and open mansion Tori and Simon were living in. Almost…secretive. In fact, as Tori emerged leading a crowd of sleep tousled people, I realized that's _exactly_ what it was supposed to be: a secret.

"Tada! The resistance movement that sleeps in our basement!" Tori gestured at the gathering throng with a sarcastic flourish before taking the empty seat next to Simon.

"Sit down, everybody." Simon ordered, before muttering something under his breath. Instantly the table's ends rocketed out, tripling its length. A dozen more chairs materialized out of the air.

As people took their seats, Simon introduced them. The names, faces, and powers he told me washed over me in a blur, and I was feeling lightheaded with the information overload when the final stragglers came up the stairs.

As the last person stepped from the doorway, he froze. My eyes locked in on panicked emerald ones, connected to a narrow face framed by thick wavy hair.

"Stephen?" I whispered.

**Duh, duh, **_**duh**_**! Cliffy alert! Sorry. Predictions? What will Derek do? **_**Why**_** is Stephen there? I'd love to hear your guesses!**


	11. Chapter 11

**STEPHEN'S BACK! What'll Derek do?**

His lips formed my name but no sound came out. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Derek do a double take, shooting a sharp glance at me.

"Chloe?" he put a hand on my shoulder. I couldn't respond, still locked in the Stephen's frozen green eyes. "_Chloe_?" Derek repeated, with even more intensity.

I didn't answer him, instead addressing Stephen. "What are you doing here?" Even to my own ears my voice sounded hollow, like all the life had drained out of it.

How could he be _here_? He was _human_! Then something occurred to me, a part of Kathy's note that I hadn't paid much attention to before. 'Roger is a sorcerer.' Why hadn't I thought of how that was possible before? I was a _necromancer_, and the only one I'd ever…been with…was my ex-husband. The only _logical_ answer was that he was a sorcerer.

"What are _you_ doing here?" his tone was equally accusatory.

A tentative voice at my elbow asked, "do you guys know each other?"

I broke away from Stephen's gaze to answer Simon. "This is my ex-husband. Stephen."

There was a collective sharp intake of breath throughout the kitchen and the hand tightened on my shoulder, though I doubted Derek did it consciously.

"Actually, Chloe…" Stephen spoke aloud for the first time. "That's not my real name." I whirled to glare at him for making up lies.

"Chloe, you must be mistaken," Simon's voice was just as cautious, full of incomprehensive confusion. "This is Peter Morbourough. You probably won't remember him because he was released soon after you arrived, but he was at Lyle House with us…He's a sorcerer."

It all came back to me in a blur of memories. I _did_ remember a Peter being at Lyle House with us, but I hadn't known him all that well. My only recollections of him were of a solemn, slightly younger boy, who was still in that video game obsession stage that all young boys went through at some point or another.

"No. He's lying to you." I turned to Derek whose pristine green eyes (so similar to his counterpart's) were torn between anger and anxiety and confusion. "That man is not Peter Morbourough. He's Stephen Smithson."

"No, Chloe. I was lying to _you_." Stephen winced as he said it, though his tone was gentle. I whirled back to him, unbelieving. "My real name _is_ Peter Morbourough. I…I knew you from Lyle House."

"What are you-"

"Ok!" Tori cut in, rolling her eyes. "This has been…dramatic. Honestly, next time I want to watch a soap opera I'll turn on the goddamn TV. But right now I just wanna' get this meeting over with so I can go back to taking care of my sick kid." she crossed her arms and scowled at everybody who was still standing until they guiltily took their seats, Stephen/Peter avoiding my eyes.

"For those of you not aware of the situation, we have been faced with another Edison Group kidnapping." Simon took leadership and spoke in a calm yet commanding voice. "Chloe? Please tell everyone what you told me before."

I took a deep breath, focusing on the grains of wood of the table so I wouldn't have to meet any pitying gazes. I launched into my tale, starting with when we came home. "…they were just…gone," I hiccupped, feeling tears sting my eyes again.

"_What_?" There was a metallic screech as Stephen leapt to his feet, shoving the chair backwards as he did so. "Our _kids_ are missing?"

"Peter, sit _down_," a woman two seats away from me snapped. He refused, instead glaring at me.

"What. Happened." his voice trembled with barely concealed fury.

"They're _gone_, Ste-Peter." I sniffled. "The Edison Group took them."

He left the table and began pacing back and forth across the kitchen, stopping every few seconds to flash me a glare. "How could you let this _happen_, Chloe?"

"How could _I_ let this happen?" I gave a harsh laugh, no humor in the sound. In the back of my mind I noted that I was becoming hysterical for the second time in one night. "_You're_ the one who left without an explanation, leaving us with _nothing_." Tears were leaking down my face by this point. The rest of the resistance movement crew had fallen silent, waiting with baited breath.

He stopped his pacing, all the anger draining out of his face as fast as it had filled. He stretched out a hand towards me, though I had no idea what he was going to do. "Chloe, I-"

"Just keep going with the story," Derek interrupted, Ste-Peter. "Tell them about the note." Stephen quietly regained his seat, and though I refused to look at him, I could feel his heavy gaze on me.

I took a deep breath and recited the words that had imprinted themselves into my brain. I tried to keep my tone level but inside I was bursting at the seems, on the verge of explosion. All this in one night? That I couldn't handle.

Derek, sensing my barely constrained agitation, reached for my hands where I was twisting them on top of the table and gently detached one, holding it tightly in his own. He rubbed my knuckles reassuringly with his thumb. Feeling Peter's eyes drilling holes in the place where our hands were intertwined, I self-consciously withdrew. Derek removed his hand quickly, hiding it back beneath the table, but it was hard to ignore the waves of hurt radiating out from him. Suddenly I wanted to get out of this cramped room with all the people staring at me. I rushed to the end of my tale, leaving out the bit about Kathy suggesting I start dating again- there are some things that are just _too_ awkward for the present company. When I had finally finished, I was exhausted. Simon, picking up on my tiredness, deemed everyone sleep on the predicament and they would reconvene in the morning to begin thinking up solutions.

"Goodnight, everyone." Simon ushered the others back down the stairs. Peter (that was going to take some getting used to) hung back, letting the rest pass him.

"Chloe?" he asked when the kitchen had mostly emptied. His hands were tucked into his jean pockets and he was gazing at me imploringly. "Can we talk? Please? I think we need to. I have to tell you some things…"

"You. Git." Tori, who had been propping open the basement door, jerked a thumb at the stairs. He glared at her briefly; she rolled her eyes again.

"Chloe?" he tried again, making my heart pulse. I still didn't- _couldn't_- turn to acknowledge him, instead pretending to study the marble countertops. I was purposely _not_ answering him.

"I don't think she wants to talk to you." I felt Derek step between the two of us, as if protectively.

"I don't think _you_ get to make that call, _werewolf_." I recognized Peter's tone and knew his green eyes were flashing.

Derek's must have been equally piercing for Simon then stepped between _them_. I, having turned to watch the confrontation, noticed Simon's strained smile wavering as he said through grinning but gritted teeth. "Peter, I would really appreciate if you do not offend my foster brother, especially as you are currently a guest in my house."

"I meant no disrespect," Peter's voice had turned oddly formal and he ducked his head with uncharacteristic submission. Clearly Simon was more powerful than I expected if he could have tamed my angry ex-husband so easily. "Chloe?" No answer. "Goodnight." He turned and slunk away through the door a fed up Tori was holding open. She shut it behind him, muttering a quick incantation under her breath. The knob briefly flashed orange before fading again to a polished silver.

"Glad that's over with," she rubbed her hands together, grimacing slightly. "We have _got_ to help them find other accommodations."

Simon snaked his arm around her waist and gave her a quick peck on the lips (Correction: _that_ was going to take getting used to). "They're helping us, honey," he reminded her. She grumbled but stopped arguing.

Suddenly Derek's voice filled the kitchen. "Chloe? Are you ok?"

I realized I was swaying on my feet, feeling on the verge of collapse. I was just so exhausted…

"Oh, right. My bad, Chloe," Simon apologized. "Here, let me show you to one of the guest rooms."

Derek wrapped an arm around my shoulders, helping to keep me upright as he saw how drained I was. I was grateful but whereas before it would have been perfectly natural, I now felt a stirring of guilt in my stomach. This was the man who had recently proposed to me, and now my ex-husband was right below the floorboards?

I thankfully didn't have much time to dwell on this as we quickly reached a guest room. "Goodnight…" The other three whispered, as the closed the door behind them. I didn't take time to admire my probably gorgeous new room, instead bee-lining for the king-sized mattress in the center. Just as I collapsed on it, the door creaked open, spilling yellow light into the room. Tori poked her head in, features softened. "Chloe? Do you want to borrow some pajamas or something?" she volunteered, voice ten times more gentle than before. She was obviously trying to make up for her prior rude behavior. I wanted to respond but couldn't. I was already half asleep.

I woke to a knock on my door. "Chloe?" A voice whispered from the other side, definitely male.

"Derek?" I whispered back, assuming and hoping it was him.

"No, Peter." he pushed open the door, craning his head around it to peer inside.

"Go away." I snapped, flopping back down onto my pillows. Still mostly asleep, I was so _not_ ready to deal with him. Not yet, at least.

"I need to talk to you." he stepped inside and closed the door behind him, plunging us back into blackness. This was unnerving as I could no longer see him.

"It can wait. Besides, you're going to need all the time you can get for coming up with your excuse."

When he answered it made me jump; he was much closer than I had anticipated. "I actually _do_ have an excuse. I was trying to do the right thing."

I felt the mattress dip under his weight to my left and knew he had sat down, close enough that I could discern the subtle glint of his cat-eyes in the gloom. "I don't want to hear it. Now get the hell out of my room." I hoped he couldn't hear my heart pounding. It wasn't fear so much as nerves and adrenaline.

"Chloe, I-" It was then I remembered Tori's careful spell on the doorknob.

"Come to think of it, how did you even get _up_ here? I thought Tori spell-locked the door."

"In case you haven't figured it out yet, I'm a sorcerer. It wasn't hard to undo."

I decided to let that one slide for now, although I _would_ be warning Tori some of her guests could escape. "Just get out, Stephen." My voice was weary.

"Peter." he corrected gently.

"Peter," I sighed.

"If you really want me to leave-"

"I do."

"-then I will. But you have to promise that you'll listen to my explanation tomorrow."

"Just get out," I avoided the promise, knowing I couldn't keep it. When I woke up, I probably wouldn't even want to look at him, much less listen to his 'explanation'.

Knowing there was no way for him to win this battle, he stood up, bed springs creaking ever so slightly. "'Night," he whispered before letting in the light for the briefest of moments before it was cut off again.

It was crying that I fell asleep again.

**Poor Chloe! Ok, seriously, what do you think of Stephen/Peter? If he still loves her, but Derek does too, who do you think she'll end up with? Wow, I am so mean, but I love to hear your predictions. MWAHAHAHA! Only **_**I**_** can make this call!**

**:P**

**(BTW- sorry if some of the dialogue is kinda weird, but what **_**would**_** two exes say to each other in this situation?)**


	12. Chapter 12

**Hope it's ok…**

I woke up buried in a nest of silk comforter with an emotional hangover. Just the fact that I was in a stranger's bed proved I had not imagined the horrific events of the night before. A summary:

My kids were missing.

My kids could be _dead_.

Derek had proposed to me

I told him no.

I meet up with Simon and Tori.

Tori hates my guts.

My ex-husband's a sorcerer

His name is Peter.

Yep, real pleasant thoughts to wake up to in the morning.

After several moments of fighting (and winning) against the tears, I disentangled myself from the sheets and stood up to stretch. I was still wearing the dress from the night before, though it was now wrinkled beyond the repair work of an iron. I sighed, looking longingly at the once unblemished silk in the floor length mirror on the wall. Just one more straw for the camel's back.

Having no other clothes to make myself presentable, I resigned myself to leaving the safe cage of my room to go downstairs. Gingerly I cracked open the door, peeking through for any signs of life in the house. It was still and silent from what I could see. That gave me courage to open it a bit more, then a bit more, until I there was no longer a barrier of wood between me and the world I had hidden myself from. Yes, now that I was awake enough to appreciate it, the house thrummed with magic. It wouldn't be noticeable at all if you hadn't known it existed, but I could almost taste the tingly air of many powerful spells. It seemed as if by stepping outside the doorway I would be re-exposing myself to the magic, magic I used to live with and in. This time yesterday I had thought myself normal; my only concern how to pay the bills and what to wear to my date with Derek. Now I had a plateful of danger and fairytale fodder.

With that thought in mind, I took a step outside. Nothing physically happened; I didn't spontaneously combust and no sparks flew into the air. But I _felt_ different. Whereas before I had been grieving after my lost children, fretting over my recently returned ex, I now felt like I could _do_ something. I didn't have to sit here and pray for everything to turn out right, like the usual princesses in the tails. I could form a plan and go after my kids myself. I was no longer normal Chloe Smithson; I was Chloe Saunders the necromancer.

Down the stairs and through several hallways and I still hadn't seen anyone. It was only until I heard the burble of voices coming from the glowing kitchen that I realized the house was, in fact, habituated.

I stepped into the doorway, peering in the room shyly, unable to shake the feeling I was intruding. Two little boys, the backs of their heads the only thing I could see, were sitting at the wooden table playing with legos. A laughing Tori had an apron on and was at the stovetop standing over a skillet. Simon was alternating between kissing his wife teasingly and picking at the bowl of sliced tomatoes next to Tori. As I watched, she playfully slapped his hand away from the bowl. I remembered with a pang my own joking moments with Stephen (Correction: _Peter_) in the kitchen as I watched them act like...well, a family. But of course, that just sent my mind whirling through the spell-locked door down the mysterious staircase into the basement...

It was only once Simon, in another attempt at sneaking around Tori's ready hand to steal a tomato, noticed me that I was dragged back to the present location. "Hey, Chloe!" Simon's already smiling face stretched into an even wider grin. "How'd you sleep?"

"Good, thanks," I blushed, feeling guilty for intruding upon their breakfast.

Tori turned to greet me and I was almost surprised to see an equally warm smile on her face, so much in contrast with last night's attitude. "You hungry?"

My stomach growled in response at the mere mention of food, reminding me it had been _hours_ since I last ate. "Sure, thanks," I blushed again, praying they hadn't heard that. "What's for breakfast?"

Simon threw back his head and laughed and Tori gave a small chuckle. "Breakfast?" she giggled. "This is lunch."

"Oh..." Had I really slept _that_ long?

"It's alright," Tori softened her expression before turning back to the stove, tilting her head to speak over her shoulder. "You looked like you could have used the sleep. Why don't you have a seat at the table while I finish these grilled cheeses?"

I did as asked after a moment's hesitation, sitting down in one of the four (guess Simon magicked the rest of the chairs away as the table was now also normal sized) chairs across from the boys.

At first they stared openly and unabashedly, as only children could do. I dared to meet their gazes, giving a friendly smile. Inside I was comparing them to their parents.

The one boy, he looked to be the taller of the twins, had the deep brown hair of Tori and her piercing chocolate eyes, though they were slanted, like Simon's. He had Simon's slender build, hinting at being lanky in the years later when he'd lose his baby fat. The shorter one's hair was honey colored: identical to his dad's own weird genetics, but his eyes were solely Tori's. They both appeared to be around five or six years old.

"Boys, can you say hello to Chloe?" Tori said, more of an order than a question. I gave a small smile to myself as I recognized the 'mom' voice that even I had used time and time again.

"Hello," the taller boy mumbled shyly.

"Hi!" the shorter boy smiled trustingly at me, voice ten decibels louder than his brother's. "Your name is Chloe? I have a girl in my class named Chloe...but she has brown hair, not yellow like yours. I couldn't go to school yesterday because mommy said I was sick, but at least she let me out of bed today. I was getting so _bored_..."

I smiled, more to keep the tears out of my eyes than anything else. He sounded just like my Anna…

Tori, sensing my barely concealed distress, barked "Dylan, get out the silverware. Nathan, go get the plates."

"But it's _grilled cheese_, mom!" Dylan whined. "We don't eat it with forks!"

"We do when we have guests," she responded tartly, rolling her eyes at me over his head. He huffed off to do as she asked with a pout on his face.

"Here, mom," Nathan deposited his pile of plastic plates next to her on the counter. She reached down the spatula-free hand to tousle his hair.

"Ah, thanks my _good_ boy." Nathan glowed under the praise.

"I _heard_ that!" Dylan protested.

Laughing she reached out and scooped him to her, crossing her arms over his chest as she pinned his squirming body against her. "You were meant to," she planted a kiss on his forehead before releasing him.

The five of us sat down at the table together, eating grilled cheese (without knives and forks, despite Dylan's efforts). Halfway through the meal a vaguely familiar man came out of the basement and, with a small nod to Simon, headed into the hall. A moment later we heard the front door open and shut. I turned to Tori and Simon questioningly but both of their attention's were focused upon their food and neither Dylan nor Nathan acted as if a strange man walking through their kitchen was anything out of the ordinary.

After the meal the boys ran off. Tori grabbed my arm and dragged me out of the kitchen and up the stairs to her bedroom, leaving a protesting Simon to do the dishes.

She shut the door firmly behind us, leaning against it as if to prevent me from escaping. "First off," she ran a hand through her hair, spiking it up further, "I'd like to apologize for how I acted last night. I feel so bad now that I know about…" she paused, not wanting to remind me. I waved for her to continue, which she did after sucking in a deep breath. "I was just worried about Dylan being sick and even though that's not really an excuse…would you buy that it was just a PMS moment?"

"It's ok, Tori," I assured her, knowing it wasn't her fault I was feeling so lousy.

"Chloe? I just want to tell you that right now I am actually jealous of how damn brave you are. As a mother I understand you're going through hell, as a wife I understand you're going through an even worse hell. And you still have your sanity. _That_ is enviable."

"Thanks," I mumbled, ducking my head.

"And I'm going to help search for your kids like they were my own damn kids, ok?"

"Thanks," I mumbled again, tears pricking the corners of my eyes.

"Oh, and since I'd be _dying_ of curiosity if I were you…your ex-husband left this morning to go track down some potential allies. Just thought you'd like to know. But advanced warning- he'll probably be back tonight. Unless you want me to kick him out of the house…" she trailed off, looking at me almost hopefully. I knew if I said yes she would, without even apologizing.

"No," I sighed. "He might be helpful."

She walked across the room and sat down on the edge of the king-size mattress, patting the spot next to her. Semi-reluctantly I perched next to her. "If I may…" her tone became tentative, "What happened between you two? I mean, how do you suddenly know one of our rebels, how were you _married_ to him without us ever finding out?"

"When did he join you guys?"

"He's been meeting with us off and on for the past seven years or so, ever since we started the resistance movement, but only in the past few months has he been living with us."

"We met at the grocery store where I worked," I stared hard at the floral print on the Oriental rug so I wouldn't have to meet her penetrating gaze. "He was…amazing. Nice, funny, supportive…"

She snorted. I shot her a glare. "I'm sorry, Chloe, but aren't they all? At least at first. And then you _marry_ them…" she gave a mock-shudder but I didn't believe it. I had seen the way her and Simon acted in the kitchen before.

"We got married, bought a house and had the two most wonderful kids in the universe." I realized too late she might take offense to this but after I shot her a sideways peek I determined she wasn't upset. All mothers would say the same.

"What happened, Chloe?" she pressed, tone hushed with anticipation.

"I saw a ghost."

"Oh." She leaned back a little, deep in thought, needing no more explanation, but I continued anyway.

"I hadn't told him about…you know…and I had gotten pretty good at hiding it over the years. But this time I wasn't careful enough to check before I started talking and…he wanted the full story. Understandably he was mad, but I hadn't actually thought he'd _leave_…" my voice broke on the last word.

"It's ok; you don't need to tell me the rest." She put an arm around my shoulders and gave me a comforting squeeze. I let a few more tears leak out, crying silently to myself for several minutes.

Finally I was able to get it back together. "Is Derek here?" I hadn't missed his absence.

The look she gave me was full of bottomless pity but she nodded. "Yeah, he's downstairs talking with some of the others. We should probably tell him you're awake…"

"Do all those people really sleep in your basement?" I asked, forcing myself to be curious so as to be distracted.

She rolled her eyes. "Yep. Wanna go visit the encampment?"

"Sure." I followed her back down the stairs and into the kitchen where Simon was still muttering over the sink as he methodically scrubbed gooey cheese off the plates.

"Thanks, honey," she gave him a brief peck on the cheek as we passed. He grumbled an incomprehensible reply without turning around.

The stairwell was long and narrow, curving around in a landing halfway down. The bottom stretched into a long carpeted hallway, uniform white doors situated every few feet like in a hotel. One of them was propped open. It was towards this one that Tori nudged me, whispering that that's where a meeting was going on. "I'm going to help Simon with the dishes before he hurts himself. See you upstairs later?" I nodded. "Ok. And come talk to me if, you know, you need a girl to talk to." She gave me one more friendly smile before retreating back up the stairs.

I padded down the carpeted hallway towards the trickling burble of voices. In the doorway I paused, peering through the crack so I'd be able to absorb the situation before they saw me. I wanted any advantage I could get in such unfamiliar territory.

Inside five people were gathered, two girls and three guys, including Derek. They were situated in a narrow barren room that consisted only of a twin bed in the corner and a small writing desk on which a laptop was hooked up. The supernaturals were all either standing or sitting on the bed. Derek was sitting closest to the pillow, green eyes glued to the stocky blond man who was speaking, saying something about the closest Edison Group headquarters.

The whole scene didn't _look_ too intimidating, and I was just about to walk inside when a flirtatious giggle stopped me. Derek had just added that a sorcerer would be necessary for lock-picking services. The woman next to him was a tall brunette with a low shirt and long legs that she wasn't afraid to show off with a mini-skirt. As I watched she leaned over and petted his arm, giggling and leaning into him suggestively. Derek glanced at her with surprise but did nothing to push her away.

My ears rang, my hear thudded painfully. Suddenly the hallway seemed too hot, the meeting too crowded. Derek lifted his head and flared his nostrils, glancing swiftly my way, but I was already tearing down the hallway and back up the stairs. I couldn't even be sure if Tori and Simon noticed me, but I couldn't care less. I fled back to the sanctuary of my room, slamming the lock down behind me and collapsed on my bed, sucking in deep breaths.

_You're overreacting_, a voice whispered in the back of my mind. _You're behaving just like all the other jealous girlfriends in the movies_. _I'm sure it's nothing…_Still, I couldn't shake the feeling I was being betrayed by the last constant in my life.

"Chloe?" A male voice at the door. I didn't bother answering.

The lock clicked, the door swinging open. "_Hey_!" I protested indignantly, expecting it to be Derek. As I pushed myself up on my elbows and swung my head around I sucked in a breath of surprise. "Ready to listen now?" Peter asked.

"What are you doing-"

"Giving you answers." He swung the door closed behind him again, relocking the door.

**Wow, me and my cliffys. You must hate me ;)**

**What do you think Peter's excuses are going to be? What's his story? I'd love you hear your guesses! **

**Oh, and sorry if some of the conversations are a little weird…like the one between Tori and Chloe. And Chloe getting jealous…I know there's a lot of OOC in this chappy and I'm sorry, I just wanted to update asap and I couldn't quite get the plot right while sticking entirely true to the original characters…no excuse, I know, but I'll try harder next time!**

**BTW- is anyone else annoyed by the new fanfic page layout? I'm seriously considering writing a complaint letter to the God of FanFiction, whoever that may be. It is **_**annoying**_**!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Sorry it's late! I was on vacation…**

"Get out before I call for Simon." I warned him, narrowing my eyes with suspicions.

"You won't do that," he said, a little too confidently for my liking. "You know you want to hear my side of the story, even if you won't admit it."

"That's what _you_ think," I grumbled, but he was right. I _was_ dying of curiosity, though it was dampened by the hurt that I knew would surely come with these truths.

He sat down on the edge of my bed like he had done the night before, green eyes earnest. "Chloe, I am sorry for leaving you."

I gave a very unladylike snort so as to mask the tears that pricked my eyes. "Sure."

His eyes flashed. "I _am_. It was the hardest decision I've ever had to make, but I'd do it again in a heartbeat."

This, surprisingly, did _not _make me feel any better. "Get out." I repeated, making to stand up and walk out myself. "I have kids I have to rescue."

"Chloe, just listen-"

"No, I _won't_ 'just listen'," I snapped, snatching back the wrist he had lunged forward to grab to prevent my escape. "My kids could be _dead_ for all I know!"

"Chloe," he sighed my name. "Anna and Roger are fine."

"How can you say that when-" I broke off suddenly as what he had said sunk in. "What do you mean 'Anna and Roger _are_ fine'?"

He paled, enough to confirm what I had just begun to suspect. "I just mean, I'm sure they are-"

"No, you seemed confident," I started edging towards the door as I realized what this meant.

"Chloe, no, I-"

"Oh my God," My hand reached behind me to fumble with the door knob. "You're with the Edison Group. _You_ probably kidnapped them!"

"Chloe-"

I opened my mouth to scream only to find my throat could make no sound. "I need you to be quiet for, like, five minutes so I can explain, and then I'll let you go, I swear." I tried to move, even just shift my eyes, but my entire body was locked in a binding spell.

He stepped over to me and awkwardly picked me up like I was a stiff cardboard cutout (which, for all purposes at the moment, I kind of was). Leaning me against the bed he lifted the spell for just long enough so he could maneuver me into a more comfortable position before I again found myself frozen, not having had enough time to even call out by the time I had realized I was free.

"Ok, I'm going to tell you everything now. _Everything_." he repeated with emphasis, looking at me imploringly. I could do nothing but glare at him, hoping he would begin squirming against the mental daggers I was shooting his way.

"Yes, I'm with the Edison Group." he paused to let that sink in for a moment before hastening to add, "but they're not as bad as you think. Not at all! I know you had some bad experiences with them, but really, they're just trying to help supernaturals like you. Like us." As if being locked in a binding spell I needed a reminder he was a sorcerer.

He must have gotten the message I was now screaming at him because he continued. "And they really are treating our kids fine. I saw them today, but of course they didn't see me. Anna has three new Barbies and Roger has a whole train set to keep him occupied. They're having a blast, it's like they're on a vacation or something." Catching sight of my glare, he amended, "Though of course I'm sure they're homesick. And before you ask, no I did not let them see me. I figured they didn't need that…drama." Suddenly he dipped his head, looking very small and young. "Do you…do you think they would even recognize me?"

Despite everything he had done and everything he was now telling me, I felt a twinge of pity for him. Clearly this had been worrying him for a while. If I could have responded I would have assured him that no, of course they hadn't forgotten him. They _missed _him, both of them. But upon remembering _why_ I couldn't tell him this, I felt all guilt evaporate.

After a moment where I wouldn't have even been surprised if he began crying, he continued. "You probably want to know by what coincidence we met, don't you? I mean," he gave a barked laugh, "what are the odds of _you_ marrying a sorcerer, much less one you'd already met?" It was rhetorical as I, of course, could not answer.

"Well, in case you haven't figured it out by now, it _wasn't_ a coincidence. Not at first, anyway. While in Lyle house I…I realized what I was and confronted the nurses about it. Talbot freaked but Van Dop understood and took me to Davidoff. He explained about my powers and the Edison Group and what they're all about and asked if I'd like to join. Considering I had almost set my best friend on fire a couple days before, I decided helping supernaturals learn to control their powers couldn't be a necessarily bad thing. Once I agreed to join I got to leave Lyle prison to live in a…lab, I guess you could call it. They didn't run experiments on me or anything quite like that, just measured my power every week or so, had me throw some fire balls around and whatnot." he said this so nonchalantly I wondered just _how_ often he had been forced to do it. "After a while, though, once they figured out I'm no all-powerful Tori they could use as a weapon, I was given another job. Spying on the woman they suspected was Chloe Saunders, the dangerous escaped necromancer." Suddenly I saw where this was going.

"Of course, they had no proof you were actually her. In fact, I think they may have just given me this mission to get me out of the way. But that was what I was supposed to be doing, getting to know the enemy. I was told to ask you on a date, so as to spend more time with you." This stung more than anything else he had said so far. So he only ever liked me because he was _ordered_ to? This _was_ the man I had once been madly in love with…

"After a while they were sick of these dates, they needed solid evidence that you were _the_ Chloe, evidence we knew you wouldn't reveal to just anyone. So they told me to propose." Realizing how this sounded he ran a hand through his hair. "But it wasn't just like that, Chloe…I was _happy_ to follow this order. I had…I had fallen in love with you by then, and after we were married…"

He took a deep breath, staring hard at the wall so he wouldn't have to meet my burning gaze. "The only three people I've ever _really_ loved in this world are you, Anna, and Roger. And I knew once I knew for sure that you were _the_ Chloe, I'd have to tell them. You see," he picked at a piece of a lint on the bed cover absently, eyes glazed, "I've been reporting to them still, all these years. They'd get suspicious if I didn't. Those business trips to Guam? I was really only going an hour's car ride away to meet with the others." I was going to _kill_ him.

"Every time I saw them I was able to say 'no, I doubt she's the _real_ Chloe' because though I had a strong suspicion you _were_, I had no solid evidence. But when you outright told me…it's impossible to lie to the Edison Group. Have you heard of a Verdade Half-Demon?" I hadn't. "They're not particularly powerful, but they _are_ useful. They can't be lied to, see. You can only tell them the truth, or they'll know. I just _had_ to leave you three, even though I knew it was hurting you, because if you told me any more and they found out…"

He didn't need to finish. I knew what the consequences could have been. The scriptwriter part of my mind noticed this could be a ploy. I mean, it was a classic- the bad guy spy being found out and saying "but I _changed_" to save his sorry ass.

"Well…that's everything I guess." he stood up and rubbed his hands together, as if relieved his confession was over. "Don't worry- they aren't planning on hurting An and Rog. I'll keep an eye on them, just in case. If I were you, I'd…go back to normal life. Forget them," he didn't say it unkindly, just matter-of-factly as if this would be easy. "Forget me."

He wasn't going to leave me here in a binding spell, right? "Now that you know everything, I should probably get out of here. Naturally you'll have to tell Simon and Tori that they've been housing a spy. I can't really blame you, but I _would_ like to get out before they find out. Someone will find you here soon, and then Tori can un-spell you." I felt a twinge of panic enter my heart as he put a hand on the door knob. My ex-husband, father of my kids, betrayer of my heart and the rebellion, was about to escape, and I was literally frozen.

"Love you, Chloe," he whispered mournfully as he stepped outside.

Not being able to do anything really sucks, you know?

**Weeeeeeeellllllll? I am dying to know what you thought! Not much action but it **_**does**_** explain some stuffs…**


	14. Chapter 14

Hola,

Ok, if you read my other story, The Risks, there's a chance you've already gotten this message. It's been almost 5 months since I last updated, and I'm worried that everyone has lost interest in my story. Honestly, I would not blame you if you had. I would like to work on it again, but if there aren't going to be any readers, I probably won't bother. I might start a new story or maybe even do the history project I'm supposed to be working on write now…

Anyway, I just want to know if you think I should continue or if it would just be a waste of time. Please let me know!

-CaitieCat78


	15. Chapter 15

**Ok, I was pretty relieved to get such positive feedback. Fortunately, it doesn't seem like you all gave up on the story, even though it's been so long. Thanks!**

**This is kind of a sloppy chapter, but I figured I owed you one. So…**

Fortunately, I was not stranded for long. "Chloe?" A male voice came from the other side of the door, accompanied by a knock, only a few minutes later. This time, it _had_ to be Derek. I only wished I could tell him to come get his butt in here and help me murder my ex-husband.

He knocked again before hesitantly pushing open the door. "Chloe? I thought I smelled you downsta- What happened?" He took in my frozen form, reading between the lines. "It was Peter, wasn't it? Dammit-" he tore back out of the room.

Oh jeez. I really hoped he was going to get Tori or Simon to free me. More likely, though, he was on his way to tear Peter apart. No doubt he smelled him in my room. Although, it seemed like Derek would have been ready to blame him for anything that went wrong anyway…

I strained my ears, that being the only sense I could really control at the moment. A muffled thump came from below, or so I thought. It may have just been my imagination. The shouting I heard several moments later, though, was definitely _not_ just my imagination. From this floor it was impossible to make out the exact words that were said, but someone was clearly angry.

More thumping, some bangs, and a thunderous crash later and it all fell silent. I would have traded almost anything to be downstairs right about then, wanting nothing more than to find out what had happened.

It was four minutes and twenty three seconds later (yes, I counted) when Tori came into 'my' room and plopped down on the edge of the bed. "No offense or anything, but you are much better off without him. Your ex is a…" she let loose a stream of curses that would have gotten Anna grounded for a year had she ever repeated them.

I had no choice but to listen to her angry rant for several minutes until she finally seemed to remember why she had to come up here in the first place. "Oops, hang on a second…" She held her hands out, palms facing me, and closed her eyes in concentration for a moment.

Control of my limbs flooded back into me. "Is he still here?" I leapt to my feet, fury in my eyes.

Her mouth tightened in understanding. "No. We were too late. Derek tried but," she shrugged, "He had a head start."

I gritted my teeth together, running a hand through my knotted hair. "Great. Just great." Sarcasm poisoned my words.

"Tell me, is he really a spy? Or did Derek just overreact and scare the guy off?"

"No, he's really a spy," I sank back down onto the mattress beside her. "He only even married me 'cause he was under orders."

"Oh my God," Tori shook her head in disgust. "That…" I even learned a few new words in the stream of profanities she released.

"And now he has my kids…"

"_He_ took them?"

"Well, he knows where they are…He even _saw_ them today, he said."

"Oh my God. Ok, we have got to get planning." Her arm reached around my shoulders and gave me a surprisingly sisterly squeeze. "Don't worry, Chloe, we're going to get them back. _Soon_."

"Yeah," I sagged against her, the weight of the problem threatening to crush me again.

We were silent for several moments, both of us straining our minds for an evasive solution, before I felt her perk up beside me. "Hey, I know what'll make you feel better. How does an hour long shower sound?"

"That sounds amazing," I admitted, pulling away from her to stand up and stretch.

"I can make that happen!" she sounded like a fairy-godmother, granting a wish.

She was right. Five minutes later found me standing in what had to be the biggest shower I had ever seen, lathering strawberry shampoo into my hair. I stayed in there until my skin shriveled and I looked like a prune. I even cried a little, where no one would hear me.

When I finally stepped out of the shower and wrapped myself in a towel fluffy enough to rival those of hotels, I felt stronger. Rejuvenated, refreshed. Ready for battle. For it was going to be a battle. I would fight to the death if I had to, whatever it took to get my babies back.

I put on some old clothes of Tori's, having to roll the hem up a bit and cuff the sleeves so it fit, but at least they were _clean_. She had thoughtfully put my own dress in the wash for me, though I doubted it would ever be wearable again.

In the kitchen, they had started the meeting without me. "We're pretty sure we know the location of their headquarters…"

"Pretty sure?" Simon, at the head of the elongated table, raised his eyebrow at the man who had been talking. "Pretty sure is no longer going to cut it. We need _definites_."

"And how do you propose we get those?" Some other woman barked.

"Look, first we have to rule out all the information we got from Peter-"

"So it's true? He was a spy?"

"Yes," Simon sighed. "So we have to suspect whatever he told us wasn't reliable…"

"So what? We just ignore everything he told us?"

"Yes-"

This caused an uproar, everyone turning to confer with their neighbors. It seemed no one could precisely remember which exact info came from Peter. Translation: they were going to have to start from scratch.

The strength lent to me by the shower already fading, I snuck into the empty seat next to Derek. He barely glanced at me, instead continuing his argument with the witch on his other side. Thankfully, it wasn't the same one I had seen him with in the basement. She was sitting at the other end of the table. I didn't know what I would have done had she been next to him, even though I knew I was overreacting.

"Guys, guys!" Simon was yelling, trying to reclaim attention. I wished for his sake that he had a gavel he could bang to truly complete the 'judge' façade. It would certainly fit, at least.

It was only when Tori, wild-eyed and red-faced, stumbled into the room that it fell silent.

"Dylan, Nathan…" Her voice cracked, tears leaking from her cheeks. "They're gone!"

**Now I wonder what could have happened to the twins? ;)**

**Guesses? Predictions? Praise? Criticism? I love to hear it all!**


	16. Chapter 16

**How's that for a speedy update? Or, at least, a speed**_**ier**_** update…Anywho, please enjoy!**

I watched as all the color drained out of Simon's face, his jaw hanging open without his permission. "What?" Someone, I couldn't tell who, gasped.

"The twins! They were in their room but now I c-can't find them and I don't know where they could have gone and-"

"You're sure they're not just hiding or something?" One sorcerer asked.

"I d-did a spell to find them and nothing happened!"

"Let me try," the witch who had tried to seduce Derek- _bad word choice, Chloe_- stood up and made for the stairs.

I half-expected Tori to argue, or at the very least snap some angry retort, but she only moved to slump into the seat the woman had vacated. She propped her elbows on the table, burying her face in her hands. I wished we were alone so I could go and comfort her, having been through the same ordeal only several hours before, but didn't dare in the room full of people. Simon moved to the seat next to her, rubbing her back in soothing circles while trying to fight tears of his own.

The table was silent for a couple minutes, everyone deep in thought as to how to solve the now-intensified problem. The witch came back, but one look at her face said it all. The twins were gone.

Sensing his brother was unraveling, Derek suggested the meeting end for now and they could reconvene after dinner. That left just four of us sitting at the graveyard-silent table, lost in our own thoughts. I didn't know what direction Derek's were running in, but I knew the rest of us had a collage of baby pictures swimming through our minds. Babies who might not ever grow up…

I don't know how much time had passed in which we just sat there grieving silently and trying to avoid the morbid thoughts that were no doubt plaguing us all. It must have been at least a century or two. Then the doorbell rang.

Simon put his hands on the table, about to hoist himself up, but Derek jumped up first. "I got it."

He disappeared, leaving us three alone, the grieving parents. Anna, Roger, Dylan, Nathan…in that moment I knew we would all have given our lives without a second's hesitation to have just one of them back.

In the distance the front door creaked open. Somewhere, a child started crying. I figured at first it must have been a neighbor, or even a ghost. There were no more living kids in this house, not anymore at least.

The crying didn't stop, though. Instead, it got louder. "_Mommy_!" the child wailed. I lifted my head off the table, turning to the doorway, conscious that Simon and Tori were doing the same.

Derek stepped in, his face stretched in a heart-warming grin. Something was wriggling in his arms…

"_Mommy_!"

"Oh my god," Tori started crying, leaping to her feet and scooping her son out of her brother-in-law's embrace. She clutched him to her chest, practically strangling the kid, peppering his forehead with tear-tinged kisses.

"Nathan," Simon, shamelessly spilling tears of his own, moved to ruffle his son's hair, wrapping an arm around his wife to steady her as she had begun to sway back and forth with the effort of holding up the much-too-big boy. There was no way she was going to put him down, I knew. Not for another hour at least. Not when the last time she had, he had disappeared.

"Nathan, Nathan, Nathan," the two parents were crooning into his hair.

I felt a pulse of my own joy as I studied him, taking note that he didn't seem to be physically hurt. His clothes were a little dirty and rumpled, and he was missing one sneaker, but other than that he seemed fine.

Then I realized that he was the only one.

It would have seemed appropriate for there to be more kids behind him: all four of them marching in like a little parade. No such luck.

My heart constricted again, though this time it was so much _worse_ because I had actually let myself start to hope…Anna and Roger were not coming back to me.

Suddenly there were arms around me, warm and sturdy. I sagged into Derek's embrace, letting him stroke my hair and whisper incomprehensible comforts in my ear. He _knew_. He _understood_.

At last, Tori and Simon stopped blubbering and sat down, their two sets of knees pressed tight together so that Nathan could sit on both of their laps at once. "Where's your brother, sweetie?" were the first comprehensible words out of Tori's mouth. "Where's Dylan?"

Nathan's lip trembled, his eyes glazing over. "Gone," he whispered. "They wanted to keep him."

"Who's 'they'?" said Simon, looking his son deep in the eyes.

"I don't know, but they were scary."

"Did they hurt you, honey?"

"No. Well, this one man's hand was too tight, he dragged me…but Mr. Peter made him let go."

I felt Derek tense, all his muscles locking. Myself, I felt like I had just been doused with ice water. A giant bucket of it.

"Mr. Peter?" Tori exchanged a meaningful glance with her husband before her eyes met mine, brimming with a contradiction of relief and horror, with a little sympathy mixed in.

"Yeah. The one with the green eyes…"

I don't think Derek was even breathing anymore.

"That _bastard-_" Simon exploded, and he probably would have leapt to his feet had he not had a five-year-old on his lap.

"Nathan, I need you to tell us what happened," Tori fought to keep her tone neutral. "The whole story. Ok?"

The boy bit his lip but nodded, seeming uncomfortable under the intense scrutiny of the four adults. "We were playing Wii. Then this man came out of the closet-"

"The _closet_?" Tori silenced her husband with a glare.

"Go on, sweetie."

"He came out of the closet and then he…he grabbed us and took us back _in_ the closet too, except it wasn't our closet anymore but it still _was_…" tears of frustration welled up in his eyes as he struggled to find the proper explanation.

"Who was it?" Simon said, though his voice was calmer now. "Was it Mr. Peter?"

"No. I don't know who it was. But he took us in the closet and then we were in the front yard, and the man made us get in a car…He took us somewhere. It was cold there. Everything was really white. It smelled icky. I was kinda scared, but Dylan told me he would protect me…they put us in a room that had a couple toys in it. There were some other kids there, too-"

I couldn't help but interrupt now. "Other kids? Was it a girl and a boy?"

"Yeah."

I pulled away from Derek, stepping towards Nathan. "Do you remember what they looked like?"

"Well, one was just a baby," he scoffed the last word. "The girl was 'bout our age, though. She had yellow hair, like you."

"Oh God." I sank into a chair, head reeling. So Anna and Roger _were_ safe- and this child knew where they were. It was all I could do not to start grilling him for details on the location…Yet.

"Are they…?"

"Anna and Roger. It was probably them," I answered Tori's unfinished question. Her eyes clouded over, thinking. "Keep going, Nathan."

"Well, they told us we could just play with the toys and the other kids for a little while. It wasn't too long, though, before a bunch of grown-ups came in. Mr. Peter was one of them. He was the only one I knew. When he saw me and Dylan, he got kind of mad. He started yelling at the other doctors that we were 'wrong'. Or well, he kept saying that _I_ was 'wrong'. Mommy, am I really wrong?"

"No, no, just keep going, dear."

"He said that I wasn't super-national."

"Super_natural_?"

"Oh. Yeah, that. He said Dylan was but I wasn't, so I had to go home. Some of the other grown-ups argued with him for a little while, but then I guess he won. Mr. Peter took me in another car. One of the other men tried to help him, that was when I got squeezed, but Mr. Peter yelled at him for hurting me. He was nicer, Mr. Peter. He held my hand and told me I could see you again. I wanted to bring Dylan, too, but they said Dylan couldn't come. I tried to drag him with us, but they didn't let me…"

"So how did you get here?"

"Mr. Peter drived me. He walked me to the door but said I had to play a game and count as high as I could before pressing the doorbell."

"How high did you count?"

"Twenty-nine seconds!" he seemed proud.

"Twenty-nine seconds," Derek, sitting down beside me, cursed under his breath. "I was twenty-nine seconds away…"

"Don't," I placed a hand on his arm. I was still trying to process this new information about Peter. So he had saved Nathan? Well kind of, at least? Five minutes ago I had been prepared to chop him up into little pieces and feed them to an opossadingoroolabat. Now, though, I wasn't so sure…

Nathan yawned. "Honey, are you tired?" He nodded. "Ok, let's get you upstairs," Tori, ignoring Simon's offer of help, scooped up her son and began fussing over him as she carried him away.

"We'll have to notify the others." Derek said.

He was right. Three of our kids were still missing. But one was back. There was still hope.

**Gaspers! Could Peter be not **_**totally**_** evil? Could *gulp* Chloe actually start falling for him again? And whattup with Nathan's story…why would they just let him go? Who exactly are 'they'? (ok, that last one's kind of an easy one, but you get my gist…)**

**TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK!**


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